
aass TK4-% 3 

Book .A7 




^%^l^^ 



LAYS 



ANCIENT EOME 



u ipocms. 



BY 

THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY. 

ELEGANTLY ILLUSTRATED. 



PHILADELPHIA: 

PUBLISHED BY E. H. BUTLER & CO. 

1860. 






Transfer 
Engineer School Liby. 
Aug.12,1931 

/ 



CONTENTS. 



HORATIUS, "41 

THE BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS, .... 85 

VIRGINIA, 149 

THE PItOrHECY OP CAPYS, 199 

ivry, . . . 289 

the armada, 249 

the cavalier's march to london, .... 259 

a song of the huguenots, 2g7 




PKEFACE, 



That what is called the history of the Kings and 
early Consuls of Rome is to a great extent fabulous, 
few scholars have, since the time of Beaufort, 
ventured to deny. It is certain, that, more than 
three hundred and sixty years after the date ordi- 
narily assigned for the foundation of the city, the 
public records were, with scarcely an exception, 
1* (5) 



6 PREFACE. 

destroyed by the Gauls. It is certain that the oldest 
annals of the commonwealth were compiled more 
than a century and a half after this destruction of 
the records. It is certain, therefore, that the great 
Latin writers of the Augustan age did not possess 
those materials, without which a trustworthy account 
of the infancy of the republic could not possibly be 
framed. Those writers own, indeed, that the chroni- 
cles to which they had access were filled with battles 
that were never fought, and Consuls that were never 
inaugurated ; and we have abundant proof, that, in 
these chronicles, events of the greatest importance, 
such as the issue of the war with Porsena, and the 
issue of the war with Brennus, were grossly mis- 
represented. Under these circumstances a wise man 
will look with great suspicion on the legend which 
has come down to us. He will perhaps be inclined 
to regard the princes who are said to have founded 
the civil and religious institutions of Rome, the son 
of Mars, and the husband of Egeria, as mere 
mythological personages, of the same class with 
Perseus and Ixion. As he draws nearer and nearer 



to the confines of authentic history, he will become 
less and less hard of belief. He will admit that the 
most important parts of the narrative have some 
foundation in truth. But he will distrust almost all 
the details, not only because they seldom rest on any 
solid evidence, but also because he will constantly 
detect in them, even when they are within the limits 
of physical possibility, that peculiar character, more 
easily understood than defined, which distinguishes 
the creations of the imagination from the realities of 
the world in which we live. 

The early history of Rome is indeed far more 
poetical than anything else in Latin literature. The 
loves of the Vestal and the God of War, the cradle 
laid among the reeds of Tiber, the fig-tree, the she- 
wolf, the shepherd's cabin, the recognition, the 
fratricide, the rape of the Sabines, the death of 
Tarpeia, the fall of Hostus Hostilius, the struggle of 
Mettus Curtius through the marsh, the women 
rushing with torn raiment and dishevelled hair 
between their fathers and their husbands, the 
nightly meetings of Numa and the Nymph by the 



8 PREFACE. 

well in the sacred grove, the fight of the three 
Romans and the three Albans, the purchase of the 
Sibylline books, the crime of Tullia, the simulated 
madness of Brutus, the ambiguous reply of the 
Delphian oracle to the Tarquins, the wrongs of 
Lucretia, the heroic actions of Horatius Codes, of 
Scsevola, and of Clcelia, the battle of Regillus, won 
by the aid of Castor and Pollux, the defence of 
Cremera, the touching story of Coriolanus, the still 
more touching story of Virginia, the wild legend 
about the draining of the Alban lake, the combat 
between Valerius Corvus and the gigantic Gaul, are 
among the many instances which will at once suggest 
themselves to every reader. 

In the narrative of Livy, who was a man of fine 
imagination, these stories retain much of their 
genuine character. Nor could even the tasteless 
Dionysius distort and mutilate them into mere prose. 

The poetry shines, in spite of him, through the 
dreary pedantry of his eleven books. It is discern- 
ible in the most tedious and in the most superficial 
modern works on the early times of Rome. It 



PREFACE. 9 

enlivens the dulness of the Universal History, and 
gives a charm to the most meagre abridgments of 
Goldsmith. 

Even in the age of Plutarch, there were discerning 
men who rejected the popular account of the founda- 
tion of Rome, because that account appeared to them 
to have the air, not of a history, but of a romance or 
a drama. Plutarch, who was displeased at their 
incredulity, had nothing better to say in reply to 
their arguments than that chance sometimes turns 
poet, and produces trains of events not to be dis- 
tinguished from the most elaborate plots which are 
constructed by art.* But though the existence of a 
poetical element in the early history of the Great 
City was detected so many ages ago, the first critic 

* "Yiro-irrov fjLZP Evioig earl to SpajxariKov ical nXaa/xaTwSes' ov 
Set 6l d~iareTi>, rrjv TVXr\v bpuvras, o'igjv notrjuarajv irijiiovpyog 
sari. — Plut. Bom. viii. This remarkable passage has been more 
grossly interpreted than any other in the Greek language, where the 
sense was so obvious. The Latin version of Cruserius, the French 
version of Amyot, the old English version by several hands, and the 
later English version by Langhorne, are all equally destitute of every 
trace of the meaning of the original. None of the translators saw even 
that -KOirjjxa is a poem. They all render it an event. 



10 PREFACE. 

who distinctly saw from what source that poetical 
element had been derived was James Perizonius, 
one of the most acute and learned antiquaries of the 
seventeenth century. His theory, which, in his own 
days, attracted little or no notice, was revived in the 
present generation by Niebuhr, a man who would 
have been the first writer of his time, if his talent 
for communicating truths had borne any proportion 
to his talent for investigating them. That theory 
has been adopted by several eminent scholars of our 
own country, particularly by the Bishop of St. 
David's, by Professor Maiden, and by the lamented 
Arnold. It appears to be now generally repeived by 
men conversant with classical antiquity ; and indeed 
it rests on such strong proofs, both internal and 
external, that it will not be easily subverted. A 
popular exposition of this theory, and of the evidence 
by which it is supported, may not be without interest 
even for readers who are unacquainted with the 
ancient languages. 

The Latin literature which has come down to us ia 
of later date than the commencement of the Second 



PREFACE. 11 

Punic War, and consists almost exclusively of words 
fashioned on Greek models. The Latin metres, 
heroic, elegiac, lyric, and dramatic, are of Greek 
origin. The best Latin epic poetry is the feeble 
echo of the Iliad and Odyssey. The best Latin 
eclogues are imitations of Theocritus. The plan of 
the most finished didactic poem in the Latin tongue 
was taken from Hesiod. The Latin tragedies are 
bad copies of the master-pieces of Sophocles and 
Euripides. The Latin comedies are free translations 
from Demophilus, Menancier, and Apollodorus. The 
Latin philosophy was borrowed, without alteration, 
from the Portico and the Academy ; and the great 
Latin orators constantly proposed to themselves as 
patterns the speeches of Demosthenes and Lysias. 

But there was an earlier Latin literature, a litera- 
ture truly Latin, which has wholly perished, which 
had, indeed, almost wholly perished long before 
those whom we are in the habit of regarding as the 
greatest Latin writers were born. That literature 
abounded with metrical romances, such as are found 
in every country where there is much curiosity and 



12 PREFACR. 

intelligence, but little reading and writing. All 
human beings, not utterly savage, long for some 
information about past times, and are delighted by 
narratives which present pictures to the eye of the 
mind. But it is only in very enlightened communi- 
ties that books are readily accessible. Metrical 
composition, therefore, which, in a highly civilized 
nation, is a mere luxury, is, in nations imperfectly 
civilized, almost a necessary of life, and is valued 
less on account of the pleasure which it gives to the 
ear, than on account of the help which it gives to 
the memory. A man who can invent or embellish 
an interesting story, and put it into a form which 
others may easily retain in their recollection, will 
always be highly esteemed by a people eager for 
amusement and information, but destitute of libra- 
ries. Such is the origin of ballad-poetry, a species 
of composition which scarcely ever fails to spring 
up and flourish in every society, at a certain 
point in the progress towards refinement. Tacitus 
informs us that songs were the only memorials of 
the past which the ancient Germans possessed. We 



PREFACE. 13 

learn from Lucan and from Ammianus Marcellinus, 
that the brave actions of the ancient Gauls were 
commemorated in the verses of Bards. During 
many ages, and through many revolutions, minstrelsy 
retained its influence over both the Teutonic and the 
Celtic race. The vengeance exacted by the spouse 
of Attila for the murder of Siegfried, was celebrated 
in rhymes, of which Germany is still justly proud. 
The exploits of Athelstane were commemorated by 
the Anglo-Saxons, and those of Canute by the Danes, 
in rude poems, of which a few fragments have come 
down to us. The chants of the Welsh harpers pre- 
served, through ages of darkness, a faint and 
doubtful memory of Arthur. In the Highlands of 
Scotland may still be gleaned some relics of the old 
songs about Cuthullin and Fingal. The long struggle 
of the Servians against the Ottoman power was 
recorded in lays full of martial spirit. We learn 
from Herrera that, when a Peruvian Inca died, men 
of skill were appointed to celebrate him in verses, 
which all the people learned by heart, and sang in 
public on days of festival. The feats of Kurroglou, 
2 



14 PREFACE. 

the great freebooter of Turkistan, recounted ra 
ballads composed by himself, are known in every 
village of Northern Persia. Captain Beechey heard 
the bards of the Sandwich Islands recite the heroic 
achievements of Tamehameha, the most illustrious 
of their kings. Mungo Park found in the heart of 
Africa a class of singing men, the only annalists of 
their rude tribes, and heard them tell the story of 
the victory which Darnel, the negro prince of the 
Jaloffs, won over Abdulkader, the Mussulman tyrant 
of Foota Torra. This species of poetry attained a 
high degree of excellence among the Castiiians, 
before they began to copy Tuscan patterns. It 
attained a still higher degree of excellence among 
the English and the Lowland Scotch, during the 
fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth centuries. But it 
reached its full perfection in ancient Greece ; for 
there can be no doubt that the great Homeric poems 
are generically ballads, though widely distinguished 
from all other ballads, and indeed from almost all 
other human compositions, by transcendent sublimity 
and beauty. 



PREFACE. 15 

As it is agreeable to general experience that, at a 
certain stage in the progress of society, ballad-poetry 
should nourish, so is it also agreeable to general 
experience that, at a subsequent stage in the progress 
of society, ballad-poetry should be undervalued and 
neglected. Knowledge advances : manners change : 
great foreign models of composition are studied and 
imitated. The phraseology of the old minstrels 
becomes obsolete. Their versification, which, having 
received its laws only from the ear, abounds in 
irregularities, seems licentious and uncouth. Their 
simplicity appears beggarly when compared with the 
quaint forms and gaudy colouring of such artists as 
Cowley and Gongora. The ancient lays, unjustly 
despised by the learned and polite, linger for a time 
in the memory of the vulgar, and are at length too 
often irretrievably lost. We cannot wonder that the 
ballads of Rome should have altogether disappeared, 
when we remember how very narrowly, in spite of 
the invention of printing, those of our own country 
and those of Spain escaped the same fate. There is 
indeed little doubt that oblivion covers many English 



16 PREFACE. 

songs equal to any that were published by Bishop 
Percy, and many Spanish songs as good as the best 
of those which have been so happily translated by 
Mr. Lockhart. Eighty years ago England possessed 
only one tattered copy of Childe Waters and Sir 
Cauline, and Spain only one tattered copy of the 
noble poem of the Cid. The snuff of a candle, or a 
mischievous dog, might in a moment have deprived 
the world for ever of any of those fine compositions. 
Sir Walter Scott, who united to the fire of a great 
poet the minute curiosity and patient diligence of a 
great antiquary, was but just in time to save the 
precious relics of the Minstrelsy of the Border. In 
Germany, the lay of the Nibelungs had been long 
utterly forgotten when, in the eighteenth century, it 
was, for the first time, printed from a manuscript in 
the old library of a noble family. In truth, the only 
people who, through their whole passage from 
simplicity to the highest civilization, never for a 
moment ceased to love and admire their old ballads, 
were the Greeks. 

That the early Romans should have had ballad- 



PREFACE. 17 

poetry, and that this poetry should have perished, is 
therefore not strange. It would, on the contrary, 
have been strange if these things had not come to 
pass ; and we should be justified in pronouncing 
them highly probable, even if we had no direct 
evidence on the subject. But we have direct 
evidence of unquestionable authority. 

Ennius, who flourished in the time of the Second 
Punic War, was regarded in the Augustan age as the 
father of Latin poetry. He was, in truth, the father 
of the second school of Latin poetry, the only school 
of which the works have descended to us. But from 
Ennius himself we learn that there were poets who 
stood to him in the same relation in which the 
author of the romance of Count Alarcos stood to 
Garcilaso, or the author of the "Lytell Geste of 
Robyn Hode" to Lord Surrey. Ennius speaks of 
verses which the Fauns and the Bards were wont to 
chant in the old time, when none had yet studied the 
graces of speech, when none had yet climbed the 
peaks sacred to the Goddesses of Grecian song. 
2* 



IS PREFACE. 

"Where," Cicero mournfully asks, "are those old 
verses now ?"* 

Contemporary with Ennius was Quintus Fabius 
Pictor, the earliest of the Roman annalists. His 
account of the infancy and youth of Romulus and 
Remus has been preserved by Dionysius, and contains 
a very remarkable reference to the ancient Latin 
poetry. Fabius says that, in his time, his country- 

* " Quid ? Nostri veteres versus ubi sunt ? 

' Quos olim Fauni vatesque canebant 

Cum neque Musarum scopulos quisquam superarat, 
Nee dicti studiosus erat.' " 

Brutus, xviii. 

The Muses, it should be observed, are Greek divinities. The Italian 
Goddesses of verse were the Camcenae. At a later period, the appella- 
tions were used indiscriminately ; but in the age of Ennius there was 
probably a distinction. In the epitaph of Nsevius, who was the repre- 
sentative of the old Italian school of poetry, the Camoense, not the 
Muses, are represented as grieving for the loss of their votary. The 
"Musarum scopuli" are evidently the peaks of Parnassus. 

Scaliger, in a note on Varro (De Lingua Latina, lib. vi.), suggests, 
with great ingenuity, that the Fauns, who were represented by tho 
superstition of later ages as a race of monsters, half gods and half brutes, 
may really have been a class of men who exercised in Latium, at a 
very remote period, the same functions which belonged to the Magians 
in Persia and to the Bards in Gaul. 



PREFACE. 19 

men were still in the habit of singing ballads about 
the twins. "Even in the hut of Faustulus," — so 
these old lays appear to have run, — "the children 
of Rhea and Mars were, in port and in spirit, not 
like unto swineherds or cowherds, but such that men 
might well guess them to be of the blood of Kings 
and Gods."* 

* Oi <?s dvSpojOzvreg yivovrai, Kara tz d\iwaiv poptprjg k.ii 
(ppovfiparog lyKOv, ov vvofiopSoig kcli /3ovKo\oig ioiKOrsg, dAX' o"o ; 
av rig d%iJia£i£ rovg ek fiaaiXtiov rt (pvvrag ykvovg, KaX drrJ 
Sa.ip.6vwv crxopag yevecOai vopi^opivovg, cjg ev roTg irarploig vpvoig 
vtto 'Pwfiaiwv en Kal vvv aSerai. — Dion. Hal. i. 79. This passage 
has sometimes been, cited as if Dionysius had beea speaking in his own 
person, and had, Greek as he was, been so industrious or so fortunate 
as to discover some valuable remains of that early Latin poetry which 
the greatest Latin writers of his age regretted as hopelessly lost. Such 
a supposition is highly improbable ; and indeed it seems clear from the 
context that Dionysius, as Reiske and other editors evidently thought, 
was merely quoting from Fabius Pictor. The whole passage has the 
air of an extract from an ancient chronicle, and is introduced by the 
words, K.6'ivrog plv <£>&6iog, b TliKrup \syopevog, rrjSe ypafoi. 

Another argument may be urged which seems to deserve considera- 
tion. The author of the passage in question mentions a thatched hut 
which, in his time, stood between the summit of Mount Palatine and 
the Circus. This hut, he says, was built by Romulus, and was con- 
stantly kept in repair at the public charge, but never in any respect 
embellished. Now, in the age of Dionysius there certainly was at Rome 
a thatched hut, said to have beea that of Romulus. But this hut, as we 



20 PREFACE. 

Cato the Censor, who also lived in the the days of 
the Second Punic War, mentioned this lost literature 

learn from Vitruvius, stood, not near the Circus, but in the Capitol. 
C Vit. ii. 1.). If, therefore, we understand Dionysius to speak in his own 
person, we can reconcile his statement with that of Vitruvius only by 
supposing that there were at Rome, in the Augustan age, two thatched 
huts, both believed to have been built by Romulus, and both carefully 
repaired, and held in high honour. The objections to such a supposi- 
tion seem to be strong. Neither Dionysius nor Vitruvius speaks of 
more than one such hut. Dio Cassius informs us that twice, during the 
long administration of Augustus, the hut of Romulus caught fire 
(xlviii. 43, liv. 29). Had there been two such huts, would he not have 
told us of which he spoke ? An English historian would hardly give an 
account of a fire at Queen's College without saying whether it was at 
Queen's College, Oxford, or at Queen's College, Cambridge. Marcus 
Seneca, Macrobius, and Conon, a Greek writer from whom Photius has 
made large extracts, mention only one hut of Romulus, that in the 
Capitol. (M. Seneca, Contr. i. 6; Macrobius, Sat. i. 15; Photius, Bill. 
186.) Ovid, Livy, Petronius, Valerius Maximus, Lucius Seneca, and 
St. Jerome, mention only one hut of Romulus, without specifying the 
site. (Ovid. Fasti, iii. 183; Liv. v. 53; Petronius, Fragm. ; Vol. Max. 
iv. 4 ; L. Seneca, Consolatio ad Helviam ; D. Uieron. ad Paulinianum 
de Didymo.) 

The whole difficulty is removed, if we suppose that Dionysius was 
merely quoting Fabius Pictor. Nothing is more probable than that the 
cabin, which in the time of Fabius stood near the Circus, might, long 
before the age of Augustus, have been transported to the Capitol, as the 
place fittest, by reason both of its safety and of its sanctity, to contain 
so precious a relic. 

The language of Plutarch confirms this hypothesis. He describes, 
with great precision, the spot where Romulus dwelt, on the slope of 



PREFACE. 21 

in his lost work on the antiquities of his country. 
Many ages, he said, before his time, there were 
ballads in praise of illustrious men ; and these ballads 
it was the fashion for the guests at banquets to sing 
in turn while the piper played. "Would," exclaims 
Cicero, "that we still had the old ballads of which 
Cato speaks !"* 

Valerius Maximus gives us exactly similar informa- 
tion, without mentioning his authority, and observes 

Mount Palatine leading to the Circus ; but he says not a word implying 
that the dwelling was still to be seen there. Indeed, his expressions 
imply that it was no longer there. The evidence of Solinus is still 
more to the point. He, like Plutarch, describes the spot where Romu- 
lus had resided, and says expressly that the hut had been there, but 
that in his time it was there no longer. The site, it is certain, was 
well remembered; and probably retained its old name, as Charing 
Cross and the Haymarket have done. This is probably the explanation 
of the words, "casa Romuli," in Victor's description of the Tenth 
Region of Rome under Valentinian. 

* Cicero refers twice to this important passage in Cato's Antiquities : 
— " Gravissimus auctor in Originibus dixit Cato, morem apud majores 
hunc epularum fuisse, ut deinceps, qui aceubarent, canerent ad tibiam 
clarorum virorum laudes atque virtutes. Ex quo perspicuum est, et 
cantus turn fuisse rescriptos vocum sonis, et carmina." — 2V.sc. Qufhst. 
iv. 2. Again : " Utinam exstarent ilia Carmina, quae, multis sseculis 
ante suam retatem, in epulis esse cantitata a singulis convivis de 
clarorum virorum laudibus, in Originibus scriptum reliquit Cato."— 
Brutus, xix. 



22 PREFACE. 

that the ancient Roman ballads were probably of 
more benefit to the young than all the lectures of the 
Athenian schools, and that to the influence of the 
national poetry were to be ascribed the virtues of 
such men as Camillus and Fabricius.* 

Varro, whose authority on all questions connected 
with the antiquities of his country is entitled to the 
greatest respect, tells us that at banquets it was 
once the fashion for boys to sing, sometimes with 
and sometimes without instrumental music, ancient 
ballads in praise of men of former times. These 
young performers, he observes, were of unblemished 
character, a circumstance which he probably men- 
tioned because, among the Greeks, and indeed in his 
time among the Romans also, the morals of singing 
boys were in no high repute, f 

* " Majores natu in conviviis ad tibias egregia superiorurn opera 
carmine eomprehensa pangebanfc, quo ad ea imitanda juventutem 
alacriorem redderent. . . . Quas Athenas, quam. scholani, quas 
alienigena studia liuic domestic* discipline prsetulerim? Inde orie- 
:jantur Camilli, Scipiones, Fabricii, Marcelli, Fabii." — Val. Max. ii. 1. 

f"Iu conviviis pueri modesti ut cantarent carmina antiqua, in 
quibus laudes erant majorum, et assa voce, et cum tibicine." Nonius, 
Assa voce pro sola. 



PREFACE. 23 

The testimony of Horace, though given incident- 
ally, confirms the statements of Cato, Valerius 
Maximus, and Varro. The poet predicts that, under 
the peaceful administration of Augustus, the Romans 
will, over their full goblets, sing to the pipe, after 
the fashion of their fathers, the deeds of brave 
captains, and the ancient legends touching the 
origin of the city.* 

The proposition, then, that Rome had ballad-poetry 
is not merely in itself highly probable, but is fully 
proved by direct evidence of the greatest weight. 

This proposition being established, it becomes 
easy to understand why the early history of the city 
is unlike almost everything else in Latin literature, 
native where almost everything else is borrowed, 

* " Nosque et profestis lueibus et sacris, 
Inter jocosi munera Liberi, 
Cum prole matronisque nostris, 
Rite Deos prius apprecati, 
Virtute functos, more patrum, duces, 
Iij-dis remixto carmine tibiis, 
Trojamque, et Ancliisen, et almse 
Progeniem Veneris canemus." 

Carm. iv, 15. 



24 PREFACE. 

imaginative -where almost everything else is prosaic. 
We can scarcely hesitate to pronounce that the magni- 
ficent, pathetic, and truly national legends, which 
present so striking a contrast to all that surrounds 
them, are broken and defaced fragments of that 
early poetry which, even in the age of Cato the 
Censor, had become antiquated, and of which Tully 
had never heard a line. 

That this poetry should have been suffered to 
perish will not appear strange when we consider 
how complete was the triumph of the Greek genius 
over the public mind of Italy. It is probable that, 
at an early period, Homer and Herodotus furnished 
some hints to the Latin minstrels :-* but it was not 
till after the war with Pyrrhus that the poetry of 
Rome began to put off its old Ausonian character. 
The transformation was soon consummated. The 
conquered, says Horace, led captive the conquerors. 
It was precisely at the time at which the Roman 
people rose to unrivalled political ascendency that 
they stooped to pass under the intellectual yoke. It 

* See the Preface to the Lay of the Battle of Regillus. 



was precisely at the time at which the sceptre 
departed from Greece that the empire of her language 
and of her arts became universal and despotic. The 
revolution indeed was not effected without a struggle. 
Nsevius seems to have been the last of the ancient 
line of poets. Ennius was the founder of a new 
dynasty. Nsevius celebrated the First Punic War in 
Saturnian verse, the old national verse of Italy.* 

* Cicero speaks highly in more than one place of this poem of 
Ntevius ; Ennius sneered at it, and stole from it. 

As to the Saturnian measure, see Hermann's Elementa Doctrines 
Metricce, iii. 9. 

The Saturnian line, according to the grammarians, consisted of two 
parts. The first was a catalectic dimeter iambic; the second was 
composed of three trochees. But the license taken by the earl}' Latin 
poets seems to have been almost boundless. The most perfect Saturnian 
line which has been preserved was the work, not of a professional 
artist, but of an amateur : 

" Dabunt malum Metelli Nasvio poetse." 

There has been much difference of opinion among learned men 
respecting the history of this measure. That it is the same with a 
Greek measure used by Archilochus is indisputable. (Bentley, Pttalarix, 
xi.) But in spite of the authority of Terentianus Maurus, and of the 
still higher authority of Bentley, -we may venture to doubt whether 
the coincidence was not fortuitous. We constantly find the same rude 
and simple numbers in different countries, under circumstances which 
make it impossible to suspect that there has been imitation on either 
side. Bishop Heber heard the children of a village in Bengal singing 

3 



26 PREFACE. 

Ennius sang the Second Punic War in numbers 
borrowed from the Iliad. The elder poet, in the 

"Radha, Radha," to the tune of "My Boy Billy." Neither the 
Castilian nor the German minstrels of the middle ages owed anything 
to Pares or to ancient Rome. Yet both the poem of the Cid and the 
poem of the Nibelungs contain many Saturnian verses ; as, — 

" Estas nuevas a mio Cid eran venidas." 
" A mi lo dicen ; a ti dan las orejadas." 

" Man mohte michel wunder von Sifride sagen." 
" Wa ich den Kunie vinde daz sol man mir sagen." 

Indeed, there cannot be a more perfect Saturnian line than one which 
is suug in every English nursery— 

" The queen was in her parlour eating bread and honey ;" 

yet the author of this line, we may be assured, borrowed nothing from 
either Noevius or Archilochus. 

On the other hand it is by no means improbable that, two or three 
hundred years before the time of Ennius, some Latin minstrel may 
have visited Sybaris or Crotona, may have heard some verses of Archi- 
lochus sung, may have been pleased with the metre, and may have 
introduced it at Rome. Thus much is certain, that the Saturnian 
measure, if not a native of Italy, was at least so early and so completely 
naturalized there that its foreign origin was forgotten. 

Bentley says indeed that the Saturnian measure was first bronght 
from Greece into Italy by Nsevius. But this is merely obiter dictum, to 
use a phrase common in our courts of law, and would not have been 
deliberately maintained by that incomparable critic, whose memory is 
held in reverence by all lovers of learning. The arguments which 
might be brought against Bentley's assertion— for it is mere assertion, 
supported by no evidence— are innumerable. A few will suffice. 



PREFACE. 27 

epitaph which he wrote for himself, and which is a 
fine specimen of the early Roman diction and 

1. Bentley's assertion is opposed to the testimony of Ennius. 
Ennius sneered at Nsevius for writing on the First Funic War in verses 
such as the old Italian bards vised before Greek literature had been 
studied. Now the poem of Nsevius was in Saturnian verse. Is it 
possible that Ennius could have used such expressions, if the Saturnian 
verse had been just imported from Greece for the first time ? 

2. Bentley's assertion is opposed to the testimony of Horace. " When 
Greece," says Horace, " introduced her arts into our uncivilized 
country, those rugged Saturnian numbers passed away." Would 
Horace have said this, if the Saturnian numbers had been imported 
from Greece just before the hexameter ? 

3. Bentley's assertion is opposed to the testimony of Festns and of 
Aurelius Victor, both of whom positively sa3' that the most ancient 
prophecies attributed to the Fauns were in Saturnian verse. 

4. Bentley's assertion is opposed to the testimony of Terentianus 
Maurus, to whom he has himself appealed. Terentianus Maurus does 
indeed say that the Saturnian measure, though believed by the Romans 
from a very early period (" eredidit vetustas") to be of Italian inven- 
tion, was really borrowed from the Greeks. But Terentianus Maurus 
does not say that it was first borrowed by Navius. Nay, the expressions 
used by Terentianus Maurus clearly imply the contrary : for how could 
the Romans have believed, from a very early period, that this measure 
was the indigenous production of Latium, if it was really brought over 
from Greece in an age of intelligence and liberal curiosity, in the age 
which gave birth to Ennius, Plautus, Cato the Censor, and other 
distinguished writers ? If Bentley's assertion were correct, there could 
have been no more doubt at Rome about the Greek origin of the 
Saturnian measure than about the Greek origin of hexameters or 
Sapphics. 



28 PREFACE. 

versification, plaintively boasted that the Latin 
language had died with him.* Thus what to Horace 
appeared to be the first faint dawn of Roman litera- 
ture appeared to Neevius to be its hopeless setting. 
In truth, one literature was setting, and another 
dawning. 

The victory of the foreign taste was decisive : and 
indeed we can hardly blame the E,omans for turning 
away with contempt from the rude lays which had 
delighted their fathers, and giving their whole 
admiration to the immortal productions of Greece. 
The national romances, neglected by the great and 
the refined whose education had been finished at 
Rhodes or Athens, continued, it may be supposed, 
during some generations, to delight the vulgar. 
While Virgil, in hexameters of exquisite modulation, 
described the sports of rustics, those rustics were still 
singing their wild Saturnian ballads.*" It is not 
improbable that, at the time when Cicero lamented 
the irreparable loss of the poems mentioned by Cato, 

* Aulus Gellius, Noetes Attica;, i. 21. 
f See Servius, in Georg. ii. 385. 



PREFACE. 29 

a search among the nooks of the Apennines, as 
active as the search which Sir Walter Scott made 
among the descendants of the mosstroopers of 
Liddesdale, might have brought to light many fine 
remains of ancient minstrelsy. No such search was 
made. The Latin ballads perished for ever. Yet 
discerning critics have thought that they could still 
perceive in the early history of Rome numerous 
fragments of this lost poetry, as the traveller on 
classic ground sometimes finds, built into the heavy 
wall of a fort or convent, a pillar rich with acanthus 
leaves, or a frieze where the Amazons and Bacchanals 
seem to live. The theatres and temples of the Greek 
and the Roman were degraded into the quarries of 
the Turk and the Goth. Even so did the ancient 
Saturnian poetry become the quarry in which a 
crowd of orators and annalists found the materials 
for their prose. 

It is not difficult to trace the process by which the 
old songs were transmuted into the form which they 
now wear. Funeral panegyric and chronicle appear 
to have been the intermediate links which connected 



30 PREFACE. 

the lost ballads with the histories now extant. From 
a very early period it was the usage that an oration 
should be pronounced over the remains of a noble 
Eoman. The orator, as we learn from Polybius, was 
expected, on such an occasion, to recapitulate all the 
services which the ancestors of the deceased had, 
from the earliest time, rendered to the commonwealth. 
There can be little doubt that th& speaker on whom 
this duty was imposed would make use of all the 
stories suited to his purpose which were to be found 
in the popular lays. There can be as little doubt 
that the family of an eminent man would preserve a 
copy of the speech which had been pronounced over 
his corpse. The compilers of the early chronicles 
would have recourse to these speeches ; and the 
great historians of a later period would have recourse 
to the chronicles. 

It may be worth while to select a particular story, 
and to trace its probable progress through these 
stages. The description of the migration of the 
Fabian house to Cremera is one of the finest of the 
many fine passages which lie thick in the earlier 



PREFACE. 31 

books of Livy. The Consul, clad in his military garb, 
stands in the vestibule of his house, marshalling his 
clan, three hundred and six fighting men, all of the 
same proud patrician blood, all worthy to be attended 
by the fasces, and to command the legions. A sad 
nd anxious retinue of friends accompanies the 
adventurers through the streets ; but the voice of 
lamentation is drowned by the shouts of admiring 
thousands. As the procession passes the Capitol, 
prayers and vows are poured forth, but in vain. 
The devoted band, leaving Janus on the right, 
marches to its doom through the Gate of Evil Luck. 
After achieving high deeds of valour against over- 
whelming numbers, all perish save one child, the 
stock from which the great Fabian race was destined 
again to spring, for the safety and glory of the 
commonwealth. That this fine romance, the details 
of which are so full of poetical truth, and so utterly 
destitute of all show of historical truth, came 
originally from some lay which had often been sung 
with great applause at banquets, is in the highest 
degree probable. Nor is it difficult to imagine a 



32 PREFACE. 

mode in which the transmission might have taken 
place. The celebrated Quintus Fabius Maxjmus, 
who died about twenty years before the First Punic 
War, and more than forty years before Ennius was 
born, is said to have been interred with extraordinary 
pomp. In the eulogy pronounced over his body all 
the great exploits of his ancestors were doubtless 
recounted and exaggerated. If there were then 
extant songs which gave a vivid and touching 
description of an event, the saddest and the most 
glorious in the long history of the Fabian house, 
nothing could be more natural than that the panegy- 
rist should borrow from such songs their finest 
touches, in order to adorn his speech. A few 
generations later the songs would perhaps be for- 
gotten, or remembered only by shepherds and vine- 
dressers. But the speech would certainly be pre- 
served in the archives of the Fabian nobles. Fabius 
Pictor would be well acquainted with a document so 
interesting to his personal feelings, and would insert 
large extracts from it in his rude chronicle. That 
chronicle, as we know, was the oldest to which Livy 



PREFACE. 33 

had access. Livy would at a glance distinguish the 
bold strokes of the forgotten poet from the dull and 
feeble narrative by which they were surrounded, 
would retouch them with a delicate and powerful 
pencil, and would make them immortal.. 

That this might happen at Rome can scarcely be 
doubted ; for something very like this has happened 
in several countries, and, among others, in our own. 
Perhaps the theory of Perizonius cannot be better 
illustrated than by showing that what he supposes to 
have taken place in ancient times has, beyond all 
doubt, taken place in modern times. 

"History," says Hume with the utmost gravity, 
"has preserved some instances of Edgar's amours, 
from which, as from a specimen, we may form a 
conjecture of the rest." He then tells very agreeably 
the stories of Elfleda and Elfrida, tAvo stories which 
have a most suspicious air of romance, and which, 
indeed, greatly resemble, in their general character, 
some of the legends of early Rome. He cites, as his 
authority for these two tales, the chronicle of William 
of Malmesbury, who lived in the' time of King 



Stephen. The great majority of readers suppose 
that the device by which Elfleda was substituted for 
her young mistress, the artifice by which Athelwold 
obtained the hand of Elfrida, the detection of that 
artifice, the hunting party, and the vengeance of the 
amorous king, are things about which there is no 
more doubt than about the execution of Anne Boleyn, 
or the slitting of Sir John Coventry's nose. But 
when we turn to William of Malmesbury, we find 
„hat Hume, in his eagerness to relate these pleasant 
fables, has overlooked one very important circum- 
stance. William does indeed tell both the stories ; 
but he gives us distinct notice that he does not 
warrant their truth, and that they rest on no better 
authority than that of ballads.*' 

Such is the way in which these two well-known 
tales have been handed down. They originally 
appeared in a poetical form. They found their way 
from ballads into an old chronicle. The ballads 

* "Infamias quas post dicam magis resperserunt cantilense." Edgar 

appears to have been most mercilessly treated in the Anglo-Saxon 

ballads. He was the favourite of the monks; and the monks and 

I 
minstrels were at deadly feud. 



TREFACE. 35 

perished ; the chronicle remained. A great histo- 
rian, some centuries after the ballads had been 
altogether forgotten, consulted the chronicle. He 
■was struck by the lively colouring of these ancient 
fictions : he transferred them to his pages ; and thus 
we find inserted as unquestionable facts, in a narra- 
tive "which is likely to last as long as the English 
tongue, the inventions of some minstrel whose "works 
were probably never committed to writing, whose 
name is buried in oblivion, and whose dialect has 
become obsolete. It must, then, be admitted to be 
possible, or rather highly probable, that the stories 
of Romulus and Remus, and of the Horatii and 
Curiatii, may have had a similar origin. 

Castilian literature will furnish us with another 
parallel case. Mariana, the classical historian of 
Spain, tells the story of the ill-starred marriage 
which the King Don Alonso brought about between 
the heirs of Carrion and the two daughters of the 
Cid. The Cid bestowed a princely dower on his 
sons-in-law. But the young men were base and 
proud, cowardly and cruel. They were tried in 



36 PREFACE- 

danger, and found wanting. They fled before the 
Moors, and once, when a lion broke out of his den, 
they ran and crouched in an unseemly hiding-place. 
They knew that they were despised, and took 
counsel how they might be avenged. They parted 
from their father-in-law with many signs of love, and 
set forth on a journey with Dona Elvira and Dona 
Sol. In a solitary place the bridegrooms seized their 
brides, stripped them, scourged them, and departed, 
leaving them for dead. But one of the house of 
Bivar, suspecting foul play, had followed the 
travellers in disguise. The ladies were brought back 
safe to the house of their father. Complaint was 
made to the king. It was adjudged by the Cortes 
that the dower given by the Cicl should be returned, 
and that the heirs of Carrion, together with one of 
their kindred, should do battle against three knights 
of the party of the Cid. The guilty youths would 
have declined the combat ; but all their shifts were 
vain. They were vanquished in the lists, and for 
ever disgraced, while their injured wives were sought 
in marriage by great princes.* 

* Mariana, lib. x. cap. 4. 



PREFACE. 87 

Some Spanish writers have laboured to show, by 
an examination of dates and circumstances, that 
this story is untrue. Such confutation was surely 
not needed ; for the narrative is on the face of it a 
romance. How it found its way into Mariana's 
history is quite clear. He acknowledges his obliga- 
tions to the ancient chronicles ; and had doubtless 
before him the " Cronica del famosa Cavallero Cid 
Euy Diez Campeador," which had been printed as 
early as the year 1552. He little suspected that all 
the most striking passages in this chronicle were 
copied from a poem of the twelfth century, a poem 
of which the language and versification had long 
been obsolete, but which glowed with no common 
portion of the fire of the Iliad. Yet such was the 
fact. More than a century and a half after the 
death of Mariana, this venerable ballad, of which 
one imperfect copy on parchment, four bunded years 
old, had been preserved at Bivar, was for the first 
time printed. Then it was found that every interesting 
circumstance of the story of the heirs of Carrion was 
derived by the eloquent Jesuit from a song of which 
4 



38 PREFACE. 

he had never heard, and which was composed by a 
minstrel whose very name had long been forgotten.* 

Such, or nearly such, appears to have been the 
process by which the lost ballad-poetry of Home was 
transformed into history. To reverse that process, 
to transform some portions of early Roman history 
back into the poetry out of which they were made, 
is the object of this work. 

In the following poems the author speaks, not in 
his own person, but in the persons of ancient 
minstrels who know only what a Roman citizen, 
born three or four hundred years before the Christian 
era, may be supposed to have known, and who are 
in nowise above the passions and prejudices of their 
age and nation. To these imaginary poets must be 
ascribed some blunders which are so obvious that it 
is unnecessary to point them out. The real blunder 
would have been to represent these old poets as 
deeply versed in general history, and studious of 

* See the account which Sanchez gives of the Bivar manuscript in 
the first volume of the Coleccion de Poesias Castellanas anteriores al 
Siglo XV. Part of the story of the lords of Carrion, in the poem of the 
Cid, has been translated by Mr. Frere in a manner above all praise. 



PREFACE. 39 

chronological accuracy. To them must also be 
attributed the illiberal sneers at the Greeks, the 
furious party spirit, the contempt for the arts of 
peace, the love of war for its own sake, the ungene- 
rous exultation over the vanquished, which the 
reader will sometimes observe. To portray a Roman 
of the age of Camillus or Curius as superior to 
national antipathies, as mourning over the devasta- 
tion and slaughter by which empire and triumphs 
were to be won, as looking on human suffering with 
the sympathy of Howard, or as treating conquered 
enemies with the delicacy of the Black Prince, would 
be to violate all dramatic propriety. The old 
Romans had some great virtues, — fortitude, temper- 
ance, veracity, spirit to resist oppression, respect 
for legitimate authority, fidelity in the observing of 
contracts, disinterestedness, ardent patriotism ; but 
Christian charity and chivalrous generosity were 
alike unknown to them. 

It would have been obviously improper to mimic 
the manner of any particular age or country. Some- 
thing has been borrowed, however, from our own old 



40 PREFACE. 

ballads, and more from Sir Walter Scott, the great 
restorer of our ballad-poetry. To the Iliad still greater 
obligations are due ; and those obligations have been 
contracted with the less hesitation, because there is 
reason to believe that some of the old Latin 
minstrels really had recourse to that inexhaustible 
store of poetical images. 

It would have been easy to swell this little volume 
to a very considerable bulk, by appending notes filled 
with quotations ; but to a learned reader such notes 
are not necessary ; for an unlearned reader they 
would have little interest ; and the judgment passed 
both by the learned and by the unlearned on a work 
of the imagination will always depend much more 
on the general character and spirit of such a work 
than on minute details. 




HORATIUS. 




HORATIUS. 



There can be little doubt that among those parts 
of early Roman history which had a poetical origin 
was the legend of Horatius Codes. We have several 
versions of the story, and these versions differ from 
each other in points of no small importance. Poly- 
bius, there is reason to believe, heard the tale recited 
over the remains of some Consul or Prsetor descended 
from the old Horatian patricians ; for he introduces 
it as a specimen of the narratives with which the 
Romans were in "the habit of embellishing their 

(;3) 



44 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

funeral oratory. It is remarkable that, according 
to him, Horatius defended the bridge alone, and 
perished in the waters. According to the chronicles 
which Livy and Dionysius followed, Horatius had 
two companions, swam safe to shore, and was loaded 
with honours and rewards. 

These discrepancies are easily explained. Our 
own literature, indeed, will furnish an exact parallel 
to what may have taken place at Rome. It is highly 
probable that the memory of the war of Porsena was 
preserved by compositions much resembling the two 
ballads which stand first in the Relics of Ancient 
English Poetry. In both those ballads the English, 
commanded by the Percy, fight with the Scots, com- 
manded by the Douglas. In one of the ballads the 
Douglas is killed by a nameless English archer, and 
the Percy by a Scottish spearman : in the other, the 
Percy slays the Douglas in single combat, and is 
himself made prisoner. In the former, Sir Hugh 
Montgomery is shot through the heart by a North- 
umbrian bowman: in the latter he is taken, and 
exchanged for the Percy. Yet both the ballads 



HORATIUS. 45 

relate to the same event, and that an event which 
probably took place -within the memory of persons 
who were alive when both the ballads were made. 
One of the minstrels says : 

*' Old men that knowen the grounde -well yenoughe 
Call it the hattell of Otterburn : 
At Otterburn began this spurne 
Upon a monnyn day. 
Ther was the dougghte Doglas slean: 
The Perse never went away." 

The other poet sums up the event in the following 
lines: 

" Thys fraye bygan at Otterbome 
Bytwene the nyghte and the day : 
Ther the Dowglas lost hys lyfe, 
And the Percy was lede away." 

It is by no means unlikely that there were two old 
Roman lays about the defence of the bridge ; and 
that, while the story which Livy has transmitted to 
us was preferred by the multitude, the other, which 
ascribed the whole glory to Horatius alone, may 
have been the favourite with the Horatian House. 

The following ballad is supposed to have been 



46 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

made about a hundred and twenty years after the 
war which it celebrates, and just before the taking 
of Rome by the Gauls. The author seems to have 
been an honest citizen, proud of the military glory 
of his country, sick of the disputes of factions, and 
much given to pining after good old times which had 
never really existed. The allusion, however, to the 
partial manner in which the public lands were 
allotted could proceed only from a plebeian ; and the 
allusion to the fraudulent sale of spoils marks the 
date of the poem, and shows that the poet shared in 
the general discontent with which the proceedings 
of Camillus, after the taking of Veii, were regarded. 
The penultimate syllable of the name Porsena has 
been shortened in spite of the authority of Niebuhr, 
who pronounces, without assigning any ground for 
his opinion, that Martial was guilty of a decided 
blunder in the line, 

" Hanc spectare manum Porsena non potuit." 

It is not easy to understand how any modern 
scholar, whatever his attainments may be, — and 



HOUATIUS. 47 

those of Niebuhr were undoubtedly immense, — can 
venture to pronounce that Martial did not know the 
quantity of a word which he must have uttered and 
heard uttered a hundred times before he left school. 
Niebuhr seems also to have forgotten that Martial 
has fellow-culprits to keep him in countenance. 
Horace has committed the same decided blunder ; 
for he gives us, as a pure iambic line, 

" Minacis ant Etrusca Porsense manus." 

Silius Italicus has repeatedly offended in the same 
way, as when he says, 

" Cernitur effugiens ardentem Porsena dextram :" 

and again, 

"Clusinum vulgus, cum, Porsena magne, jubebas." 

A modern writer may be content to err in such 
company. 

Niebuhr's supposition that each of the three 
defenders of the bridge was the representative of 
one of the three patrician tribes is both ingenious 
and probable, and has been adopted in the following 




HORATIUS. 



A LAY MADE ABOUT THE YEAR OF THE CITY CCCLX. 



Lars Porsena of Clusium 
By the Nine Gods he swore 

That the great house of Tarquin 
Should suffer wrong no more. 



(49) 



50 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

By the Nine Gods he swore it, 
And named a trysting day, 
- And bade his messengers ride forth, 

East and west and south and north, 
To summon his array. 



li. 

East and west and south and north 

The messengers ride fast, 
And tower and town and cottage 

Have heard the trumpet's blast. 
Shame on the false Etruscan 

"Who lingers in his home 
When Porsena of Clusium 

Is on the march for Rome. 

in. 

The horsemen and the footmen 

Are pouring in amain, 
From many a stately market-place ; 

From many a fruitful plain ; 



HOKATIUS. 51 

From many a lonely hamlet, 

Which, hid by beech and pine, 
Like an eagle's nest, hangs on the crest 

Of purple Apennine ; 

IV. 

From lordly Volaterrae, 

Where scowls the far-famed hold 
Piled by the hands of giants 

For godlike kings of old ; 
From seagirt Populonia, 

Whose sentinels descry 
Sardinia's snowy mountain-tops 

Fringing the southern sky ; 

v. 

From the proud mart of Pisse, 

Queen of the western waves, 
Where ride Massilia's triremes 

Heavy with fair-haired slaves ; 
From where sweet Clanis wanders 

Through corn and vines and flowers ; 



52 LAYS OF ANCIENT EOME. 

From where Cortona lifts to heaven 
Her diadem of towers. 

VI. 

Tall are the oaks whose acorns 

Drop in dark Auser's rill ; 
Fat are the stags that champ the boughs 

Of the Ciminian hill ; 
Beyond all streams Clitumnus 

Is to the herdsman dear ; 
Best of all pools the fowler loves 

The great Volsinian mere. 

VII. 

But now no stroke of woodman 

Is heard by Auser's rill ; 
No hunter tracks the stag's green path 

Up the Ciminian hill ; 
Unwatched along Clitumnus 

Grazes the milk-white steer ; 
Unharmed the water-fowl may dip 

In the Volsinian mere. 



HOKATIUS. 53 

VIII. 

The harvests of Arretium, 

This year, old men shall reap ; 
This year, young boys in Umbro 

Shall plunge the struggling sheep ; 
And in the vats of Luna, 

This year, the must shall foam 
Round the white feet of laughing girls, 

Whose sires have marched to Rome. 

IX. 

There be thirty chosen prophets, 

The wisest of the land, 
Who alway by Lars Porsena 

Both morn and evening stand : 
Evening and morn the Thirty 

Have turned the verses o'er, 
Traced from the right on linen white 

By mighty seers of yore. 

x. 

And with one voice the Thirty 

Have their glad answer given ; 
5* 



54 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

"Go forth, go forth, Lars Porsena 
Go forth, beloved of Heaven ; 

Go, and return in glory- 
To Clusium's royal dome ; 

And hang round Nurscia's altars 
The golden shields of Rome." 

XI. 

And now hath every city 

Sent up her tale of men ; 
The foot are fourscore thousand, 

The horse are thousands ten. 
Before the gates of Sutrium 

Is met the great array. 
A proud man was Lars Porsena 

Upon the trysting day. 

XII. 

For all the Etruscan armies 
Were ranged beneath his eye, 

And many a banished Roman, 
And many a stout ally ; 



HORATITJS. 55 

And with a mighty following 

To join the muster came 
The Tusculan Mamilius, 

Prince of the Latian name. 

XIII. 

But by the yellow Tiber 

Was tumult and affright : 
From all the spacious champaign 

To Rome men took their flight. 
A mile around the city, 

The throng stopped up the ways ; 
A fearful sight it was to see 

Through two long nights and days. 

XIV. 

For aged folk on crutches, 

And women great with child, 
And mothers sobbing over babes 

That clung to them and smiled, 
And sick men borne in litters 

High on the necks of slaves, 



56 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

And troops of sun-burned husbandmen 
With reaping-hooks and staves. 

xv. 
And droves of mules and asses 

Laden with skins of wine, 
And endless flocks of goats and sheep, 

And endless herds of kine, 
And endless trains of wagons 

That creaked beneath the weight 
Of corn-sacks and of household goods, 

Choked every roaring gate. 

XVI. 

Now from the rock Tarpeian, 

Could the wan burghers spy 
The line of blazing villages 

Ked in the midnight sky. 
The Fathers of the City, 

They sat all night and day, 
For every hour some horseman came 

With tidings of dismay. 



HORATIUS. 57 

XVII. 

To eastward and to westward 

Have spread the Tuscan bands ; 
Nor house, nor fence, nor dovecote 

In Crustumerium stands. 
Verbenna down to Ostia 

Hath wasted all the plain ; 
Astur hath stormed Janiculum, 

And the stout guards are slain. 

XVIII. 

I wis, in all the Senate, 

There was no heart so bold, 
But sore it ached, and fast it beat, 

When that ill news was told. 
Forthwith up rose the Consul, 

Up rose the Fathers all ; 
In haste they girded up their gowns, 

And hied them to the wall. 

XIX. 

They held a council standing 
Before the Blver-gate ; 



58 &AYS OF ANCIENT HOME. 

Short time was there, ye well may guess, 

For musing or debate. 
Out spake the Consul roundly : 

" The bridge must straight go down ; 
For, since Janiculum is lost, 

Naught else can save the town." 

xx. 

Just then a scout came flying, 

All wild with haste and fear : 
" To arms ! to arms ! Sir Consul ; 

Lars Porsena is here." 
On the low hills to westward 

The Consul fixed his eye, 
And saw the swarthy storm of dust 

Rise fast along the sky. 

XXI. 

And nearer fast and nearer 

Doth the red whirlwind come ; 
And louder still, and still more loud 
From underneath that rolling cloud, 



59 



Is heard the trumpet's war-note proud, 
The trampling, and the hum. 

And plainly and more plainly 
Now through the gloom appears, 

Far to left and far to right; 

In broken gleams of dark-blue light, 

The long array of helmets bright, 
The long array of spears. 



And plainly and more plainly, 

Above that glimmering line, 
Now might ye see the banners 

Of twelve fair cities shine ; 
But the banner of proud Ciusium 

Was highest of them all, 
The terror of the Umbrian, 

The terror of the Gaul. 



And plainly and more plainly 
Now might the burghers know, 



60 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

By port and vest, by horse and crest, 

Each warlike Lucomo. 
There Cilnius of Arretium 

On his fleet roan was seen ; 
And Astur of the four-fold shield, 
Girt with the brand none else may wield, 
Tolumnius with the belt of gold, 
And dark Verbenna from the hold 

By reedy Thrasymene. 

XXIV. 

Fast by the royal standard, 

O'erlooking all the war, 
Lars Porsena of. Clusium 

Sat in his ivory car. 
By the right wheel rode Mamilius, 

Prince of the Latian name ; 
And by the left false Sextus, 

That wrought the deed of shame. 

xxv. - 
But when the face of Sextus 
Was seen among the foes, 



HORATIUS. 61 

A yell that rent the firmament 

From all the town arose. 
On the house-top3 was no woman 

But spat towards him and hissed ; 
No child but screamed out curses, 

And shook its little fist. 

XXVI. 

But the Consul's brow was sad, 

And the Consul's speech was low, 
And darkly looked he at the wall, 

And darkly at the foe. 
" Their van will be upon us 

Before the bridge goes down ; 
And if they once may win the bridge, 

What hope to save the town ?" 

XXVII. 

Then out spake brave Horatius, 

The Captain of the gate : 
"To every man upon this earth 

Death cometh soon or late. 

6 



62 



LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 




And how can man die better 
Than facing fearful odds, 

For the ashes of his fathers 
And the temples of his Gods, 



03 



XXVIII. 

" And for the tender mother 

Who dandled him to rest, 
And for the wife who nurses 

His baby at her breast, 
And for the holy maidens 

Who feed the eternal flame, 
To save them from false Sextus 

That wrought the deed of shame ? 

XXIX. 

"Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul, 

With all the speed ye may ; 
I, with two more to help me, 

Will hold the foe in play. 
In yon strait path a thousand 

May well be stopped by three. 
Now who will stand on either hand, 

And keep the bridge with me?" 

XXX. 

Then out spake Spurius Lartius ; 
A Ramnian proud' was he : 



64 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

" Lo, I will stand at thy right hand, 
And "keep the bridge with thee." 

And out spake strong Herminius ; 
Of Titian blood was he : 

" I will abide on thy left side, 
And keep the bridge with thee." 




XXXI. 

Horatius," quoth the Consul, 
"As thou sayest, so let it be." 



HORATIUS. 65 

And straight against that great array 

Forth went the dauntless Three. 
For Romans in Eome's quarrel 

Spared neither land nor gold, 
Nor son nor wife, nor limb nor life, 

In the brave days of old. 

XXXII. 

Then none was for a party ; 

Then all were for the state : 
Then the great man helped the poor, 

And the poor man loved the great : 
Then lands were fairly portioned : 

Then spoils were fairly sold: 
The Romans were like brothers 

In the brave days of old. 

XXXIII. 

Now Roman is to Roman 

More hateful than a foe, 
And the Tribunes beard the high, 

And the Fathers grind the low. 
G* 



66 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

As we wax hot in faction, 

In battle we wax cold : 
Wherefore men fight not as they fought 

In the brave days of old. 

xxxiv. 
Now while the Three were tightening 

Their harness on their backs, 
The Consul was the foremost man 

To take in hand an axe : 
And Fathers mixed with Commons 

Seized hatchet, bar, and crow, 
And smote upon the planks above, 

And loosed the props below. 



Meanwhile the Tuscan army, 

Right glorious to behold, 
Came flashing back the noonday light, 
Rank behind rank, like surges bright 

Of a broad sea of gold. 



HORATIUS. 



67 



Four hundred trumpets sounded 

A peal of warlike glee, 
As that great host, with measured tread, 
And spears advanced, and ensigns spread, 
Pvolled slowly towards the bridge's Lead, 

Where stood the dauntless Three. 




LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
XXXVI. 

The Three stood calm and silent 

And looked upon the foes, 
And a great shout of laughter 

From all the vanguard rose : 
And forth three chiefs came spurring 

Before that deep array ; 
To earth they sprang, their swords they drew, 
And lifted high their shields, and flew 

To win the narrow way ; 

XXXVII. 

Aunus from green Tifernum, 

Lord of the Hill of Vines ; 
And Seius, whose eight hundred slaves 

Sicken in Ilva's mines ; 
And Picus, long to Clusium 

Vassal in peace and war, 
Who led to fight his Umbrian powers 
From that gray crag where, girt with towers, 
The fortress of Nequinum lowers 

O'er the pale waves of Nar. 



HORATIUS. 69 

XXXVIII. 

Stout Lartius hurled clown Aunus 

Into the stream beneath : 
Herminius struck at Seius, 

And clove him to the teeth : 
At Picus brave Horatius 

Darted one fiery thrust ; 
And the proud Umbrian's gilded arms 

Clashed in the bloody dust. 



XXXIX. 

Then Ocnus of Falerii 

Rushed on the Roman Three ; 
And Lausulus of Urgo, 

The rover of the sea ; 
And Aruns of Volsinium, 

Who slew the great wild boar, 
The great wild boar that had his den 
Amidst the reeds of Cosa's fen, 
And wasted fields, and slaughtered men, 

Along Albinia's shore. 



70 LAYS OE ANCIENT ROME. 

XL. 

Herminius smote down Aruns : 

Lartius laid Ocnus low : 
Right to the heart of Lausulus 

Horatius sent a blow. 
''Lie there," he cried, "fell pirate ! 

No more, aghast and pale, 
From Ostia's- walls the crowd shall mark 
The track of thy destroying bark. 
No more Campania's hinds shall fly 
To woods and caverns when they spy 

Thy thrice accursed sail." 

XLI. 

But now no sound of laughter 

Was heard among the foes. 
A wild and wrathful clamour 

From all the vanguard rose. 
Six spears' lengths from the entrance 

Halted that deep array, 
And for a space no man came forth 

To win the narrow way. 



HORATIUS. 
XLII. 

But hark ! the cry is Astur : 

And lo ! the ranks divide ; 
And the great Lord of Luna 

Comes with his stately stride. 
Upon his ample shoulders 

Clangs loud the four-fold shield, 
And in his hand he shakes the brand 

Which none but he can -wield. 



He smiled on those bold Romans 

A smile serene and high ; 
He eyed the flinching Tuscans, 

And scorn was in his eye. 
Quoth he, " The she-wolf's litter 

Stand savagely at bay : 
But will ye dare to follow, 

If Astur clears the way V* 

XLIV. 

Then, whirling up his broadsword 
With both hands to the height, 



72 LAYS OP ANCIENT ROME. 

He rushed against Horatius, 
And smote with all his might. 

With shield and blade Horatius 
Right deftly turned the "blow. 

The blow, though turned, came yet too nigh 

It missed his helm, but gashed his thigh : 

The Tuscans raised a joyful cry 
To see the red blood flow. 



He reeled, and on Herminius 

He leaned one breathing-space ; 
Then, like a wild cat mad with wounds, 

Sprang right at Astur's face. 
Through teeth, and skull, and helmet, 

So fierce a thrust he sped, 
The good sword stood a hand-breadth out 

Behind the Tuscan's head. 



And the great Lord of Luna 
Fell at that deadly stroke, 



HORATIUS. 73 

As falls on Mount Alvernus 

A thunder-smitten oak. 
Far o'er the crashing forest 

The giant arms lie spread ; 
And the pale augurs, muttering low, 

Gaze on the blasted head. 



On Astur's throat Horatius 

Right firmly pressed his heel, 
And thrice and four times tugged amain, 

Ere he wrenched out the steel. 
"And see," he cried, "the welcome, 

Fair guests, that waits you here ! 
What noble Lucomo comes next, 

To taste our Roman cheer ?" 

XL VIII. 

But at this haughty challenge 

A sullen murmur ran, 
Mingled of wrath, and shame, and dread, 

Along that glittering van. 



LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

There lacked not men of prowess, 

Nor men of lordly race ; 
For all Etruria's noblest 

"Were round the fatal place. 

XLIX. 

But all Etruria's noblest 

Felt their hearts sink to see 
On the earth the bloody corpses, 

In the path the dauntless Three : 
And, from the ghastly entrance 

Where those bold Romans stood, 
All shrank, like boys who unaware, 
Ranging the woods to start a hare, 
Come to the mouth of the dark lair 
Where, growling low, a fierce old bear 

Lies amidst bones and blood. 

L. 

Was none who would be foremost 
To lead such dire attack ; 



But those behind cried " Forward !" 
And those before cried "Back!" 

And backward now and forward 
Wavers the deep array ; 

And on the tossing sea of steel, 

To and fro the standards reel ; 

And the victorious trumpet-peal 
Dies fitfully away. 

LI. 

Yet one man for one moment 

Strode out before the crowd ; 
Well knoAvn was he to all the Three, 

And they gave him greeting loud. 
"Now welcome, welcome, Sextus ! 

Now welcome to thy home ! 
Why dost thou stay, and turn away ? 

Here lies the road to Rome." 



Thrice looked he at the city ; 
Thrice looked he at the dead : 



76 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

And thrice came on in fury, 

And thrice turned back in dread : 

And, white with fear and hatred, 
Scowled at the narrow way 

Where, wallowing in a pool of blood, 
The bravest Tuscans lay. 

LIII. 

But meanwhile axe and lever 

Have manfully been plied, 
And now the bridge hangs tottering 

Above the boiling tide. 
"Come back, come back, Horatius !" 

Loud cried the Fathers all. 
"Back, Lartius ! back, Herminius! 

Back, ere the ruin fall !" 

L1V. 

Back darted Spurius Lartius ; 

Herminius darted back : 
And, as they passed, beneath their feet 

They felt the timbers crack. 



77 



But when they turned their faces, 

And on the farther shore 
Saw brave Horatius stand alone, 

They would have crossed once more. 

LV. 

But with a crash like thunder 

Fell every loosened beam, 
And, like a dam, the mighty wreck 

Lay right athwart the stream: 
And a long shout of triumph 

Rose from the walls of Rome, 
As to the highest turret-tops 

Was splashed the yellow foam. 

LVI. 

And, like a horse unbroken 
When first he feels the rein, 

The furious river struggled hard, 
And tossed his tawny mane, 

And burst the curb, and bounded, 



78 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

Rejoicing to be free, 
And whirling down, in fierce career, 
Battlement, and plank, and pier, 

Rushed headlong to the sea. 

LVII. 

Alone stood brave Horatius, 

But constant still in mind ; 
Thrice thirty thousand foes before, 

And the broad flood behind. 
"Down with him !" cried false Sextus, 

With a smile on his pale face. 
" Now yield thee," cried Lars Porsena, 

"Now yield thee to our grace." 

LVIII. 

Round turned he, as not deigning 
Those craven ranks to see ; 

Naught spake he to Lars Porsena, 
To Sextus naught spake he : 

But he saw on Palatinus 

The white porch of his home ; 



HOKATIUS. 79 

And he spake to the noble river 
That rolls by the towers of Rome. 

LIX. 

" Oh, Tiber ! Father Tiber ! 

To whom the Romans pray, 
A Roman's life, a Roman's arms, 

Take thou in charge this day !" 
So he spake, and speaking sheathed 

The good sword by his side, 
And with his harness on his back, 

Plunged headlong in the tide. 

LX. 

No sound of joy or sorrow 

Was heard from either bank ; 
But friends and foes in dumb surprise, 
With parted lips and straining eyes, 

Stood gazing where he sank ; 
And when above the surges 

They saw his crest appear, 
All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry, 



80 LAYS OF ANCIENT HOME. 

And even the ranks of Tuscany 
Could scarce forbear to cheer. 



LXI. 

But fiercely ran the current, 

Swollen high by months of rain : 
And fast his blood was flowing; 

And he was sore in pain, 
And heavy with his armour, 

And spent with changing blows : 
And oft they thought him sinking, 

But still again he rose. 



LXII. 

Never, I ween, did swimmer, 

In such an evil case, 
Struggle through such a raging flood 

Safe to the landing-place : 
But his limbs were borne up bravely 

By the brave heart within, 



81 



And our good Father Tiber 
Bare bravely up his chin.* 

LXIII. 

" Curse on him !" quoth false Sextus : 

" Will not the villain drown ? 
But for this stay, ere close of day 

We should have sacked the town !" 
" Heaven help him !" quoth Lars Porsena, 

" And bring him safe to shore ; 
For such a gallant feat of arms 

Was never seen before." 

LXIV. 

And now he feels the bottom ; 
Now on dry earth he stands ; 

* " Our Ladye bare upp her chinne." 

Ballad of Childe Waters. 
Never heavier man and horse 
Stemmed a midnight torrent's force ; 
******* 
Yet, through good heart and Our Lady's grace, 
At length he gained the landing place. 

Lay of the Last Minstrel, I. 



82 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

Now round him throng the Fathers 
To press his gory hands ; 

And now, with shouts and clapping, 
And noise of weeping loud, 

He enters through the River-Gate, 
Borne by the joyous crowd. 

LXV. 

They gave him of the corn-land 

That was of public right 
As much as two strong oxen 

Could plough from morn till night 
And they made a molten image, 

And set it up on high, 
And there it stands unto this day 

To Avitness if I lie. 

LXVI. 

It stands in the Comitium, 
Plain for all folk to see ; 

Horatius in his harness, 
Halting upon one knee : 



83 



And underneath is written, 

In letters all of gold, 
How valiantly lie kept the bridge 

In the brave days of old. 

LXVII. 

And still his name sounds stirring 

Unto the men of Rome, 
As the trumpet-blast that cries to them 

To charge the Volscian home ; 
And wives still pray to Juno 

For boys with hearts as bold 
As his who kept the bridge so well 

In the brave days of old. 

LXVIII. 

And in the nights of winter, 

When the cold north winds blow, 

And the long howling of the wolves 
Is heard amidst the snow ; 

When round the lonely cottage 
Roars loud the tempest's din, 



84 LAYS OF ANCTENT ROME. 

And the good logs of Algidus 
Roar louder yet within ; 

LXIX. 

When the oldest cask is opened, 

And the largest lamp is lit ; 
When the chestnuts glow in the embers, 

And the kid turns on the spit ; 
When young and old in circle 

Around the firebrands close ; 
When the girls are weaving baskets. 

And the lads are shaping bows ; 

LXX. 

When the goodman mends his armour, 

And trims his helmet's plume ; 
When the gooclwife's shuttle merrily 

Goes flashing through the loom ; 
With weeping and with laughter 

Still is the story told, 
How well Horatius kept the bridge 

In the brave days of old. 




THE 



BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 




THE 



BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 



The following poem is supposed to have been 
produced about ninety years after the lay of 
Horatius. Some persons mentioned in the lay of 
Horatius make their appearance again, and some 
appellations and epithets used in the lay of Horatius 
have been purposely repeated : for, in an age of 

(87) 



OO LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

ballad-poetry, it scarcely ever fails to happen, that 
certain phrases come to he appropriated to certain 
men and things, and are reguluarly applied to those 
men and things by every minstrel. Thus we find, 
both in the Homeric poems and in Hesiod, &ir\ 
'HpaxXrieiri, -kepikXvtos 'AjA^iyv^eis, StaKTopog 'ApyeicpovTis, 
ett0.xv\os QijBrj, 'BXsuris evsic fiVK6p:oio. TllUS, too, in Our 

own national songs, Douglas is almost always the 
doughty Douglas : England is merry England : all 
the gold is red ; and all the ladies are gay. 

The principal distinction between the lay of 
Horatius and the lay of the Lake Regillus is that 
the former is meant to be purely Roman, while the 
latter, though national in its general spirit, has a 
slight tincture of Greek learning and of Greek 
superstition. The story of the Tarquins, as it has 
come down to us, appears to have been compiled 
from the works of several popular poets ; and one, 
at least, of those poets appears to have visited the 
Greek colonies in Italy, if not Greece itself, and to 
have had some acquaintance with the works of 
Homer and Herodotus. Many of the most striking 



BATTLE OF THE LAKE HEGILLUS. »y 

adventures of the house of Tarquin, before Lucretia 
makes her appearance, have a Greek character. 
The Tarquins themselves are represented as Corin- 
thian nobles of the great house of the Bacchiadte, 
driven from their country by the tyranny of that 
Cypselus, the tale of whose strange escape Herodotus 
has related with incomparable simplicity and liveli- 
ness.* Livy and Dionysius tell us that, when 
Tarquin the Proud was asked what was the best 
mode of governing a conquered city, he replied only 
by beating down with his staff all the tallest poppies 
in his garden. | This is exactly what Herodotus, in 
the passage to which reference has already been 
made, relates of the counsel given to Periander, the 
son of Cypselus. The stratagem by which the town 
of Gabii is brought under the power of the Tarquins 
is, again, obviously copied from Herodotus. J The 
embassy of the young Tarquins to the oracle at 
Delphi, is just such a story as would be told by a 

* Herodotus, v. 92. Livy, i. 34. Dionysius, iii. 46. 
t Livy, i. 54. Dionysius, iv. 53. 
I nerodotus, iii. 154. Livy, i. 53. 

8* 



90 



LAYS OF ANCIENT HOME. 




poet whose head was full of the Greek mythology ; 
and the ambiguous answer returned by Apollo is in 
the exact style of the prophecies which, according 
to Herodotus, lured Croesus to destruction. Then 
the character of the narrative changes. From the 
first mention of Lucretia to the retreat of Porsena 
nothing seems to be borrowed from foreign sources. 
The villany of Sextus, the suicide of his victim, the 
revolution, the death of the sons of Brutus, the 



BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 



01 




defence of the bridge, Mucius burning his hand,* 
Cloelia swimming through Tiber, seem to be all 
strictly Roman. But when we have done with the 
Tuscan war, and enter upon the war with the 
Latines, we are again struck by the Greek air of the 



* M. de Pouilly attempted, a hundred and twenty years ago, to prove 
that the story of Mucins was of Greek origin; but he was signally 
confuted by the Abbe Sallier. See the Memoires de V Academic des 
Iw,riptions, vi. 27, 66. 



92 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

story. The Battle of the Lake Regillus is in all 
respects a Homeric battle, except that the combat- 
ants ride astride on their horses instead of driving 
chariots. The mass of fighting men is hardly men- 
tioned. The leaders single each other out and 
engage hand to hand. The great object of the 
warriors on both sides is, as in the Iliad, to obtain 
possession of the spoils and bodies of the slain ; and 
several circumstances are related which forcibly 
reminds us of the great slaughter round the corpses 
of Sarpedon and Patroclus. 

But there is one circumstance which deserves 
especial notice. Both the war of Troy and the war 
of Regillus were caused by the licentious passions of 
young princes, who were therefore peculiarly bound 
not to be sparing of their own persons in the day of 
battle. Now the conduct of Sextus at Regillus, as 
described by Livy, so exactly resembles that of 
Paris, as described at the beginning of the third 
book of the Iliad, that it is difficult to believe the 
resemblance accidental. Paris appears before the 



BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLTJS. V6 

Trojan ranks, defying the bravest Greek to encounter 
him: 

Tpwcnv filv Trpopdxi-&'-> 'AXs^avSpo; Ososidiig, 

'Apyelwv trpoKaXi^ETO navras apicTOvg, 

avriSiov juaxsaaadai ev alvrji StfTorriTi. 

Livy introduces Sextus in a similar manner : "Fero- 
cem juvenem Tarquinium, ostentatum se in prima 
exsulum acie." Menelaus rushes to meet Paris. A 
Roman noble, eager for vengeance, spurs his horse 
towards Sextus. Both the guilty princes are instantly 
terror-stricken : 

Tdv 6' d>f ovv Lv6r]<7£v 'AX^avSpog OeoeiSns 
iv npo/iaxouri (pavevra, KareirXfiyr] <pCkov rjrop' 
aip <5' ST&pcov els Wvog eXo.&to Krjp' aXceivcov. 

"Tarquinius," says Livy, "retro in agmen suorum 
infenso cessit hosti." If this be a fortuitous coinci- 
dence, it is one of the most extraordinary in litera- 
ture. 

In the following poem, therefore, images and 
incidents have been borrowed, not merely without 



94 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

scruple, but on principle, from the incomparable 
battle-pieces of Homer. 

The popular belief at Rome, from an early period, 
seems to have been that the event of the great day 
of Regillus, was decided by supernatural agency. 
Castor and Pollux, it was said, had fought, armed 
and mounted, at the head of the legions of the 
commonwealth, and had afterwards carried the news 
of the victory with incredible speed to the city. 
The well in the Forum at which they had alighted 
was pointed out. Near the well rose their ancient 
temple. A great festival was kept to their honour 
on the Ides of Quintilis, supposed to be the anni- 
versary of the battle ; and on that day sumptuous 
sacrifices were offered to them at the public charge. 
One spot on the margin of Lake Regillus was regarded 
during many ages with superstitious awe. A mark 
resembling in shape a horse's hoof, was discernible 
in the volcanic rock ; and this mark was believed to 
have been made by one of the celestial chargers. 

How the legend originated cannot now be ascer- 
tained : but we may easily imagine several ways in 



BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 95 

which it might have originated: nor is it at all 
necessary to suppose, with Julius Frontinus, that 
two young men were dressed up by the Dictator to 
personate the sons of Leda. It is probable that 
Livy is correct, when he says that the Soman 
general, in the hour of peril, vowed a temple to 
Castor. If so, nothing could be more natural than 
that the multitude should ascribe the victory to the 
favour of the Twin Gods. When such was the 
prevailing sentiment, any man who chose to declare 
that, in the midst of the confusion and slaughter, he 
had seen two godlike forms on white horses scatter- 
ing the Latines, would find ready credence. We 
know, indeed, that, in modern times, a very similar 
story actually found credence among a people much 
more civilized than the Romans of the fifth century 
before Christ. A chaplain of Cortes, writing about 
thirty years after the conquest of Mexico, in an age 
of printing-presses, libraries, universities, scholars, 
logicians, jurists, and statesmen, had the face to 
assert that, in one engagement against the Indians, 
Saint James had appeared on a gray horse at the 



96 LAYS OF ANCIENT EOME. 

head of the Castilian adventurers. Many of those 
adventurers were living when this lie was printed. 
One of them, honest Bernal Diaz, wrote an account 
of the expedition. He had the evidence of his own 
senses against the legend ; but he seems to have 
distrusted even the evidence of his own senses. He 
says that he was in the battle, and that he saw a 
gray horse with a man on his back, but that the. man 
was, to his thinking, Francesco de Morla, and not 
the ever-blessed apostle Saint James. "Neverthe- 
less," Bernal adds, " it may be that the person on 
the gray horse was the glorious apostle Saint James, 
and that I, sinner that I am, was unworthy to see 
him." The Romans of the age of Cincinnatus were 
probably quite as credulous as the Spanish subjects 
of Charles the Fifth. It is therefore conceivable 
that the appearance of Castor and Pollux may have 
become an article of faith before the generation 
which had fought at Regillus had passed away. 
Nor could anything be more natural than that the 
poets of the next age should embellish this story, 



BATTLE OP THE LAKE REGILLUS. 97 

and make the celestial horsemen bear the tidings of 
victory to Rome. 

Many years after the temple of the Twin Gods had 
been built in the Forum, an important addition was 
made to the ceremonial by which the state annually 
testified its gratitude for their protection. Quintus 
Fabius and Publius Decius were elected Censors at a 
momentous crisis. It had become absolutely neces- 
sary that the classification of the citizens should be 
revised. On that classification depended the dis- 
tribution of political power. Party-spirit ran high ; 
and the republic seemed to be in danger of falling 
under the dominion either of a narrow oligarchy or 
of an ignorant and headstrong rabble. Under such 
circumstances the most illustrious patrician and the 
most illustrious plebeian of the age were intrusted 
with the office of arbitrating between the angry 
factions ; and they performed their arduous task to 
the satisfaction of all honest and reasonable men. 

One of their reforms was a remodelling of the 
equestrian order ; and, having effected this reform, 
they determined to give to their work a sanction 
9 



98 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

derived from religion. In the chivalrous societies 
of modern times, societies which have much more 
than may at first sight appear in common with 
the equestrian order of Eome, it has been usual 
to invoke the special protection of some Saint, 
and to observe his day with peculiar solemnity. 
Thus the Companions of the Garter wear the 
image of Saint George depending from their collars, 
and meet, on great occasions, in Saint George's 
Chapel. Thus, when Louis the Fourteenth instituted 
a new order of chivalry for the rewarding of military 
merit, he commended it to the favour of his own 
glorified ancestor and patron, and decreed that all 
the members of the fraternity should meet at the 
royal palace on the Feast of Saint Louis, should 
attend the king to chapel, should hear mass, and 
should subsequently hold their great annual assem- 
bly. There is a considerable resemblance between 
this rule of the order of Saint Louis and the rule 
which Fabius and Decius made respecting the Roman 
knights. It was ordained that a grand muster and 
inspection of the equestrian body should be part 



BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 99 

of the ceremonial performed, on the anniversary 
of the battle of Regillus, in honour of Castor 
and Pollux, the two equestrian Gods. All the 
knights, clad in purple and crowned with olive, 
were to meet at a temple of Mars in the suburbs. 
Thence they were to ride in state to the Forum, 
where the temple of the Twins stood. This pageant 
was, during several centuries, considered as one of 
the most splendid sights of Borne. In the time of 
Dionysius the cavalcade sometimes consisted of five 
thousand horsemen, all persons of fair repute and 
easy fortune.* 

There can be no doubt that the Censors who 
instituted this august ceremony acted in concert with 
the Pontiffs to whom, by the constitution of Rome, 
the superintendence of the public worship belonged ; 
and it is probable that those high religious function- 
aries were, as usual, fortunate enough to find in their 
books or traditions some warrant for the innovation. 

* See Livy, ix. 46. Val. Max. ii. 2. Aurel. Vict. De Viris Illustrious, 
32. Dionysius, vi. 13. Plin. Hist. Nat. xv. 5. See also the singularly 
ingenious chapter in Niebuhr's posthumous volume, Die Cmsur des Q. 
Fabias und P. Decius. 



100 LAYS OF ANCIENT HOME. 

The following poem is supposed to have been made 
for this great occasion. Songs, we know, were 
chanted at the religious festivals of Rome from an 
early period, indeed from so early a period that some 
of the sacred verses were popularly ascribed to 
Numa, and were utterly unintelligible in the age of 
Augustus. In the Second Punic War a great feast 
was held in honour of Juno, and a song was sung in 
her praise. This song was extant when Livy wrote ; 
and, though exceedingly rugged and uncouth, seemed 
to him not wholly destitute of merit.* A song, as 
we learn from Horace, f was part of the established 
ritual at the great Secular Jubilee. It is therefore 
likely that the Censors and Pontiffs, when they had 
resolved to add a grand procession of knights to the 
other solemnities annually performed on the Ides of 
Quintilis, would call in the aid of a poet. Such a 
poet would naturally take for his subject the Battle 
of Regillus, the appearance of the Twin Gods, and 
the institution of their festival. He would find 
abundant materials in the ballads of his predecessors ; 

*Livy, xxvii. 37. t Hor. Carmen Seculare. 



BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 101 

and he would make free use of the scanty stock of 
Greek learning which he had himself acquired. He 
would probably introduce some wise and holy 
Pontiff enjoining the magnificent ceremonial which, 
after a long interval, had at length been adopted 
If the poem succeeded, many persons would commit 
it to memory. Parts of it would be sung to the pipe 
at banquets. It would be peculiarly interesting to 
the great Posthumian House, which numbered among 
its many images that of the Dictator Aulus, the hero 
of Regillus. The orator who, in the following 
generation, pronounced the funeral panegyric over 
the remains of Lucius Posthumius Megellus, thrice 
Consul, would borrow largely from the lay ; and thus 
some passages, much disfigured, would probably find 
their way into the chronicles which were afterwards 
in the hands of Dionysius and Livy. 

Antiquaries differ widely as to the situation of the 
field of battle. The opinion of those who suppose 
that the armies met near Cornufelle, between 
Frascati and the Monte Porzio, is at least plausible, 
and has been followed in the poem. 
9* 



102 



LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 



As to the details of the battle, it has not been 
thought desirable to adhere minutely to the accounts 
which have come down to us. Those accounts, 
indeed, differ widely from each other, and, in all 
probability, differ as widely from the ancient poem 
from which they were originally derived. 

It is unnecessary to point out the various imita- 
tions of the Iliad, which have been purposely 
introduced. 




THE 

BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 

A LAY SUNG AT THE FEAST OF CASTOR AND POLLUX 
ON THE IDES OF QUINTILIS, IN THE YEAR OF THE 
CITY CCCCLI. 



Ho, trumpets, sound a war-note ! 

Ho, lictors, clear the way ! 
The Knights will ride, in all their pride, 

Along the streets to-day. 
To-day the doors and windows 

Are hung with garlands all, 
From Castor in the Forum, 

To Mars without the wall. 

(103) 



104 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

Each Knight is robed in purple, 

With olive each is crowned ; 
A gallant war-horse under each 

Paws haughtily the ground. 
While flows the Yellow River, 

While stands the Sacred Hill, 
The proud Ides of Quintilis 

Shall have such honour still. 
Gay are the Martian Kalends : 

December's Nones are gay : 
But the proud Ides, when the squadron rides, 

Shall be Rome's whitest day. 



Unto the Great Twin Brethren 

We keep this solemn feast. 
Swift, swift, the Great Twin Brethren 

Came spurring from the east. 
They came o'er wild Parthenius 

Tossing in waves of pine, 
O'er Cirrha's dome, o'er Adria's foam, 

O'er purple Apennine, 



BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 105 

From where -with, flutes and dances 

Their ancient mansion rings, 
In lordly Lacedsemon, 

The City of two kings, 
To where, by Lake Kegillus, 

Under the Porcian height, 
All in the lands of Tusculum, 

Was fought the glorious fight. 

in. 

Now on the place of slaughter 

Are cots and sheepfolds seen, 
And rows of vines, and fields of wheat, 

And apple-orchards green : 
The swine crush the big acorns 

That fall from Corne's oaks. 
Upon the Turf by the Fair Fount 

The reaper's pottage smokes. 
The fisher baits his angle ; 

The hunter twangs his bow ; 
Little they think on those strong limbs 

That moulder deep below. 



106 LAYS OP ANCIENT ROME. 

Little they think how sternly 

That day the trumpets pealed ; 
How in the slippery swamp of blood 

Warrior and war-horse reeled ; 
How wolves came with fierce gallop, 

And crows on eager wings, 
To tear the flesh of captains, 

And peck the eyes of kings ; 
How thick the dead lay scattered 

Under the Porcian height ; 
How through the gates of Tusculum 

Raved the wild stream of flight ; 
And how the Lake Regillus 

Bubbled with crimson foam, 
What time the Thirty Cities 
' Came forth to war with Rome. 

IV. 

But, Roman, when thou standest 

Upon that holy ground, 
Look thou with heed on the dark rock 

That girds the dark lake round. 



BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 107 

So shalt thou see a hoof-mark 

Stamped deep into the flint : 
It was no hoof of mortal steed 

That made so strange a dint : 
There to the Great Twin Brethren 

Vow thou thy vows, and pray- 
That they, in tempest and in fight, 

Will keep thy head alway. 

v. 

Since last the Great Twin Brethren 

Of mortal eyes were seen, 
Have years gone by an hundred 

And fourscore and thirteen. 
That summer a Virginius 

Was Consul first in place ; 
The second was stout Aulus, 

Of the Posthumian race. 
The Herald of the Latines 

From Gabii came in state : 
The Herald of the Latines 

Passed through Home's Eastern Gate : 



108 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

The Herald of the Latines 
Did in our Forum stand ; 

And there he did his office, 
A sceptre in his hand. 

VI. 

"Hear, Senators and people 

Of the good town of Rome : 
The Thirty Cities charge you 

To bring the Tarquins home : 
And if ye still be stubborn, 

To work the Tarquins wrong, 
The Thirty Cities warn you, 

Look that your walls be strong. 

VII. 

Then spake the Consul Aulus, 
He spake a bitter jest : 

" Once the jays sent a message 
Unto the eagle's nest : — 

Now yield thou up thine eyrie 
Unto the carrion-kite, 



BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 



109 



Or come forth valiantly, and face 
The jays in deadly fight. — 

Forth looked in wrath the eagle ; 
And carrion-kite and jay, 

Soon as they saw his beak and claw, 
Fled screaming far away." 




10 



110 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

VIII. 

The Herald of the Latines 

Hath hied him back in state : 
The Fathers of the City 

Are met in high debate. 
Then spake the elder Consul, 

An ancient man and wise, 
"Now hearken, Conscript Fathers, 

To that which I advise. 
In seasons of great peril 

'Tis good that one bear sway ; 
Then choose we a dictator, 

Whom all men shall obey. 
Camerium knows how deeply 

The sword of Aulus bites ; 
And all our city calls him 

The man of seventy fights. 
Then let him be Dictator 

For six months and no more, 
And have a Master of the Knights, 

And axes twenty-four." 



BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. Ill 
IX. 

So Aulus was Dictator, 

The man of seventy fights ; 
He made iEbutius Elva 

His Master of the Knights. 
On the third morn thereafter, 

At dawning of the day, 
Did Aulus and iEbutius 

Set forth with their array. 
Sempronius Atratinus 

Was left in charge at home 
With boys, and with gray-headed men, 

To keep the walls of Rome. 
Hard by the Lake Regillus 

Our camp was pitched at night : 
Eastward a mile the Latines lay, 

Under the Porcian height. 
Far over hill and valley 

Their mighty host was spread ; 
And with their thousand watch-fires 

The midnight sky was red. 



112 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

X. 

Up rose the golden morning 

Over the Porcian height, 
The proud Ides of Quintilis 

Marked evermore with white. 
Not without secret trouble 

Our bravest saw the foes ; 
For girt by threescore thousand spears 

The thirty standards rose. 
From every warlike city 

That boasts the Latian name, 
Foredoomed to dogs and vultures, 

That gallant army came ; 
From Setia's purple vineyards, 

From Norba's ancient wall, 
From the white streets of Tusculum, 

The proudest town of all ; 
From where the Witch's Fortress 

O'erhangs the dark -blue seas; 
From the still glassy lake that sleeps 

Beneath Aricia's trees — 



BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 113 

Those trees in whose dim shadow 

The ghastly priest doth reign, 
The priest who slew the slayer, 

And shall himself be slain 
From the drear banks of Ufens, 

Where flights of marsh-fowl play, 
And buffaloes lie wallowing 

Through the hot summer's day ; 
From the gigantic watch-towers, 

No work of earthly men, 
Whence Cora's sentinels o'erlook 

The never-ending fen ; 
From the Laurentian jungle, 

The wild-hog's reedy home ; 
From the green steeps whence Anio leaps 

In floods of snow-white foam. 

XI. 

Aricia, Cora, Norba, 

Velitrae, with the might 
Of Setia and of Tusculum, 

Were marshalled on the right : 
10* 



14 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

Their leader was Mamilius, 

Prince of the Latian name ; 
Upon his head a helmet m 

Of red gold shone like flame : 
High on a gallant charger 

Of dark gray hue he rode ; 
Over his gilded armour 

A vest of purple flowed, 
Woven in the land of sunrise 

By Syria's dark-browed daughters, 
And by the sails of Carthage brought 

Far o'er the southern waters.. 

XII. 

Lavinium and Laurentum 

Had on the left their post, 
With all the banners of the marsh, 

And banners of the coast. 
Their leader was false Sextus, 

That wrought the deed of shame : 
With restless pace and haggard face 

To his last field he came. 



BATTLE OF THE LAKE REG1LLUS. US 

Men said he saw strange visions 

Which none beside might see ; 
And that strange sounds were in his cars 

Which none might hear but he. 
A woman fair and stately, 

But pale as are the dead, 
Oft through the watches of the night 

Sat spinning by his bed. 
And as she plied the distaff, 

In a sweet voice and low, 
She sang of great old houses, 

And fights fought long ago. 
So spun she, and so sang she, 

Until the east was gray, 
Then pointed to her bleeding breast, 

And shrieked, and fled away. 

XIII. 

But in the centre thickest 

Were ranged the shields of foes, 

And from the centre loudest 
The cry of battle rose. 



116 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

There Tibur marched and Pedum 

Beneath proud Tarquin's rule, 
And Ferentinum of the rock, 

And Gabii of the pool. 
There rode the Volscian succours : 

There, in a dark stern ring, 
The Koman exiles gathered close 

Around the ancient king. 
Though white as Mount Soracte, 

When winter nights are long, 
His beard flowed down o'er mail and belt, 

His heart and hand were strong. 
Under his hoary eyebrows 

Still flashed forth quenchless rage : 
And, if the lance shook in his gripe, 

'Twas more with hate than age. 
Close at his side was Titus 

On an Apulian steed, 
Titus, the youngest Tarquin, 

Too good for such a breed. 



BATTLE OF THE LAKE KEGILLUS. 117 

XIV. 

Now on each side the leaders 

Gave signal for the charge ; 
And on each side the footmen 

Strode on with lance and targe ; 
And on each side the horsemen 

Struck their spurs deep in gore ; 
And front to front the armies 

Met with a mighty roar : 
And under that great battle 

The earth with blood was red ; 
And, like the Pomptine fog at morn, 

The dust hung Overhead ; 
And louder still and louder 

Kose from the darkened field 
The braying of the war-horns, 

The clang of sword and shield, 
The rush of squadrons sweeping 

Like whirlwinds o'er the plain, 
The shouting of the slayers, 

And screeching- of the slain. 



118 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

XV. 

False Sextus rode out foremost : 

His look was high and bold ; 
His corslet was of bison's hide, 

Plated with steel and gold. 
As glares the famished eagle 

From the Digentian rock 
On a choice lamb that bounds alone 

Before Bandusia's flock, 
Herminius glared on Sextus, 

And came with eagle speed, 
Herminius on black Auster, 

Brave champion on brave steed ; 
In. his right hand the broadsword 

That kept the bridge so well, 
And on his helm the crown he won 

When proud Fidenas fell. 
Woe to the maid whose lover 

Shall cross his path to-day ! 
False Sextus saw, and trembled, 

And turned, and fled away. 



BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 119 

As turns, as flies, the woodman 

In the Calabrian brake, 
When through the reeds gleams the round eye 

Of that fell speckled snake ; 
So turned, so fled, false Sextus, 

And hid him in the rear, 
Behind the dark Lavinian ranks, 

Bristling with crest and spear. 

XVI. 

But far to north iEbutius, 

The Master of the Knights, 
Gave Tubero of Norba 

To feed the Porcian kites. 
Next under those red horse-hoofs 

Flaccus of Setia lay ; 
Better had he been pruning 

Among his elms that day. 
Mamilius saw the slaughter, 

And tossed his golden crest, 
And towards the Master of the Knights 

Through the thick battle pressed. 



120 LAYS OP ANCIENT HOME. 

iEbutius smote Mamilius 

So fiercely on the shield 
That the great lord of Tusculum 

Well-nigh rolled on the field. 
Mamilius smote iEbutius, 

With a good aim and true, 
Just where, the neck and shoulder join, 

And pierced him through and through 
And brave iEbutius Elva 

Fell swooning to the ground : 
But a thick wall of bucklers 

Encompassed him around. 
His clients from the battle 

Bare him some little space, 
And filled a helm from the dark lake, 

And bathed his brow and face ; 
And when at last he opened 

His swimming eyes to light, 
Men say, the earliest work he spake 

Was, "Friends, how goes the fight?" 



BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 121 

XVII. 

But meanwhile in the centre 

Great deeds of arms were wrought ; 
There Aulus the Dictator 

And there Valerius fought. 
Aulus with his good broadsword 

A bloody passage cleared 
To where, amidst the thickest foes, 

He saw the long white beard. 
Flat lighted that good broadsword 

Upon proud Tarquin's head. 
He dropped the lance : he dropped the reins : 

He fell as fall the dead. 
Down Aulus springs to slay him, 

With eyes like coals of fire ; 
But faster Titus hath sprung down, 

And hath bestrode his sire. 
Latian captains, Roman knights, 

Fast down to earth they spring, 
And hand to hand they fight on foot 

Around the ancient king. 
11 



122 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

First Titus gave tall Coeso 

A death-wound in the face ; 
Tall Coeso was the bravest man 

Of the brave Fabian race : 
Aulus slew Rex of Gabii, 

The priest of Juno's shrine : 
Valerius smote down Julius, 

Of Rome's great Julian line; 
Julius, who left his mansion 

High on the Velian hill, 
And through all turns of weal and woe 

Followed proud Tarquin still. 
Now right across proud Tarquin 

A corpse was Julius laid ; 
And Titus groaned with rage and grief, 

And at Valerius made. 
Valerius struck at Titus, 

And lopped oif half his crest ; 
But Titus stabbed Valerius 

A span deep in the breast. 
Like a mast snapped by the tempest, 

Valerius reeled and fell. 



BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 123 

Ah ! woe is me for the good house 

That loves the people well ! 
Then shouted loud the Latines ; 

And with one rush they bore 
The struggling Romans backward 

Three lances' length and more : 
And up they took proud Tarquin, 

And laid him on a shield, 
And four strong yeomen bare him, 

Still senseless, from the field. 

XVIII. 

But fiercer grew the fighting 

Around Valerius dead ; 
For Titus dragged him by the foot, 

And Aulus by the head. 
"On, Latines, on!" quoth Titus, 

" See how the rebels fly !" 
" Romans, stand firm !" quoth Aulus, 

" And win this fight or die ! 
They must not give Valerius 

To raven and to kite : 



124 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

For aye Valerius loathed the wrong 

And aye upheld the right : 
And for your wives and babies 

In the front rank he fell. 
Now play the men for the good house 

That loves the people well!" 

XIX. 

Then tenfold round the body 

The roar of battle rose, 
Like the roar of a burning forest, 

When a strong northwind blows. 
Now backward, and now forward, 

Kocked furiously the fray, 
Till none could see Valerius, 

And none wist where he lay. 
For shivered arms and ensigns 

Were heaped there in a mound, 
And corpses stiff, and dying men 

That writhed and gnawed the ground ; 
And wounded horses kicking, 

And snorting purple foam : 



BATTLE OF THE LAKE KEGILLUS. 125 

Eight -well did such a couch befit 
A Consular of Rome. 

XX. 

But north looked the Dictator ; 

North looked he long and hard ; 
And spake to Caius Cossus, 

The Captain of his Guard: 
"Caius, of all the Romans 

Thou hast the keenest sight ; 
Say, what through yonder storm of dust 

Comes from the Latian right?" 

XXI. 

Then answered Caius Cossus : 

" I see an evil sight ; 
The banner of r,"Oud Tusculum 

Comes from the Latian right ; 
I see the plumed horsemen ; 

And far before the rest 
I see the dark-gray charger, 

I see the purple vest ; 
11* 



128 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

I see the golden helmet 

That shines far off like flame ; 

So ever rides Mamilius, 
Prii.ce of the Latian name." 

XXII. 

" Now hearken, Caius Cossus : 

Spring on thy horse's back ; 
Ride as the wolves of Apennine 

Were all upon thy track ! 
Haste to our southward battle ; 

And never draw thy rein 
Until thou find Herminius, 

And bid him come amain." 

XXIII. 

So Aulus spake, and turned him 
Again to that fierce strife ; 

And Caius Cossus mounted, 
And rode for death and life. 

Loud clanged beneath his horse-hoofs 
The helmets of the dead, 



BATTLE OP THE LAKE REGILLUS. 127 

And many a curdling pool of blood 

Splashed him from heel to head. 
So came he far to southward, 

Where fought the Roman host, 
Against the banners of the marsh 

And banners of the coast. 
Like corn before the sickle 

The stout Lavinians fell, 
Beneath the edge of the true sword 

That kept the bridge so well. 



" Herminius ! Aulus greets thee ; 

He bids thee come with speed, 
To help our central battle ; 

For sore is there our need. 
There wars the youngest Tarquin, 

And there the Crest of Flame, 
The Tusculan Mamilius, 

Prince of the Latian name. 
Valerius hath fallen fighting 

In front of our array ; 



128 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

And Aulus of the seventy fields 
Alone upholds the day." 

XXV. 

Herminius beat his bosom ; 

But never a word he spake. 
He clapped his hand on Auster's mane ; 

He gave the reins a shake, 
Away, away, went Auster, 

Like an arrow from the bow : 
Black Auster was the fleetest steed 

From Aufidus to Po. 



Right glad were all the Romans 

Who, in that hour of dread, 
Against great odds bare up the war 

Around Valerius dead, 
When from the south the cheering 

Rose with a mighty swell ; 
' ' Herminius comes, Herminius, 

Who kept the bridge so well !" 



BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 129 

XXTII. 

Mamilius spied Herminius, 

And dashed across the "way. 
" Herminius ! I have sought thee 

Through many a bloody day. 
One of us two, Herminius, 

Shall never more go home. 
I will lay on for Tusculum, 

And lay thou on for Eome !" 



XXVIII. 

All round them paused the battle, 

While met in mortal fray 
The Koman and the Tusculan, 

The horses black and gray. 
Herminius smote Mamilius 

Through breast-plate and through breast ; 
And fast flowed out the jmrple blood 

Over the purple vest. 
Mamilius smote Herminius 

Through head-piece and through head ; 



130 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

And side "by side those chiefs of pride 
Together fell down dead. 

Down fell they dead together 
In a great lake of gore ; 

And still stood all who saw them fall 
While men might count a score. 




XXIX. 

Fast, fast, with heels wild spurning, 
The dark-gray charger fled ; 



BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 13! 

He burst through ranks of fighting men 

He sprang o'er heaps of dead. 
His bridle far out-streaming, 

His flanks all blood and foam, 
He sought the southern mountains, 

The mountains of his home. 
The pass was steep and rugged, 

The wolves they howled and whined ; 
But he ran like a whirlwind up the pass, 

And he left the wolves behind. 
Through many a startled hamlet 

Thundered his flying feet : 
He rushed through the gate of Tusculum, 

He rushed up the long white street ; 
He rushed by tower and temple, 

And paused not from his race 
Till he stood before his master's door 

In the stately market-place. 
And straightway round him gathered 

A pale and trembling crowd, 
And when they knew him, cries of rage 

Brake forth, and wailing loud : 



132 



LAYS OF ANCIENT HOME. 



And women rent their tresses 
For their great prince's fall ; 

And old men girt on their old swords, 
And went to man the wall. 




.^^ 



BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 133 

XXX. 

But, like a graven image, 

Black Auster kept his place, 
And ever wistfully he looked 

Into Ms master's face. 
The raven mane that daily, 

With pats and fond caresses, 
The young Herminia washed and combed, 

And twined in even tresses, 
And decked with colored ribands 

From her own gay attire, 
Hung sadly o'er her father's corpse 

In carnage and in mire. 
Forth with a shout sprang Titus, 

And seized black Auster's rein. 
Then Aulus sware a fearful oath, 

And ran at him amain. 
" The furies of thy brother 

"With me and mine abide, 
If one of your accursed house 

Upon black Auster ride !" 
12 



134 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

As on an Alpine watch-tower 

From heaven comes down the flame, 
Full on the neck of Titus 

The blade of Aulus came : 
And out the red blood spouted, 

In a wide arch and tall, 
As spouts a fountain in the court 

Of some rich Capuan's hall. 
The knees of all the Latines 

Were loosened with dismay, 
When dead, on dead Herminius, 

The bravest Tarquin lay. 

XXXI. 

And Aulus the Dictator 

Stroked Auster's raven mane, 
With heed he looked unto the girths, 

With heed unto the rein. 
' ' Now bear me well, black Auster, 

Into yon thick array ; 
And thou and I will have revenge 

For thy good lord this day." 



BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 135 

XXXII. 

So spake he ; and was buckling 

Tighter black Auster's band, 
When he was aware of a princely pair 

That rode at his right hand. 
So like they were, no mortal 

Might one from other know : 
White as snow their armour was : 

Their steeds were white as snow. 
Never on earthly anvil 

Did such rare armour gleam ; 
And never did such gallant steeds 

Drink of an earthly stream. 



xxxm. 

And all who saw them trembled, 
And pale grew every cheek ; 

And Aulus the Dictator 

Scarce gathered voice to speak. 

" Say by what name men call you ? 
What city is your home ? 



136 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

And wherefore ride ye in such guise 
Before the ranks of Rome ?" 



" By many names men call us ; 

In many lands we dwell : 
Well Samothracia knows us ; 

Cyrene knows us well. 
Our house in gay Tarentum 

Is hung each morn with flowers : 
High o'er the masts of Syracuse 

Our marble portal towers ; 
But by the proud Eurotas 

Is our dear native home ; 
And for the right we come to fight 

Before the ranks of Rome." 

xxxv. 
So answered those strange horsemen, 

And each couched low his spear ; 
And forthwith all the ranks of Rome 

Were bold, and of good cheer : 



BATTLE OP THE LAKE REGILLUS. 137 




And on the thirty armies 

Came wonder and affright, 
And Ardea wavered on the left, 

And Cora on the right. 
"Rome to the charge !" cried Aulus; 

" The foe begins to yield ! 
Charge for the hearth of Vesta! 

Charge for the Golden Shield ! 
Let no man stop to plunder, 

But slay, and slay, and slay : 
11* 



138 LAYS OF ANCIENT HOME. 

The Gods who live for ever 
Are on our side to-day." 

xxxvi. 
Then the fierce trumpet-flourish 

From earth to heaven arose, 
The kites know well the long stern swell 

That bids the Romans close. 
Then the good sword of Aulus 

Was lifted up to slay : 
Then, like a crag down Apennine, 

Rushed Auster through the fray. 
But under those strange horsemen 

Still thicker lay the slain ; 
And after those strange horses 

Black Auster toiled in vain. 
Behind them Rome's long battle 

Came rolling on the foe, 
Ensigns dancing wild above, 

Blades all in line below. 
So comes the Po in flood-time 

Upon the Celtic plain : 



BATTLE OP THE LAKE REGILLUS. 139 

So comes the squall, blacker than night, 

Upon the Adrian main. 
Now, by our Sire Quirinus, 

It was a goodly sight 
To see the thirty standards 

Swept down the tide of flight. 
So flies the spray of Adria 

When the black squall doth blow ; 
So corn-sheaves in the flood-time 

Spin down the whirling Po. 
False Sextus to the mountains 

Turned first his horse's head ; 
And fast fled Ferentinum, 

And fast Lanuvium fled. 
The horsemen of Nomentum 

Spurred hard out of the fray ; 
The footmen of Velitrse 

Threw shield and spear away. 
And underfoot was trampled, 

Amidst the mud and gore, 
The banner of proud Tusculum, 

That never stooped before : 



140 



LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 



And down went Flavius Faustus, 

Who led his stately ranks 
From where the apple blossoms wave 

On Anio's echoing banks, 
And Tullus of Arpinum, 

Chief of the Volscian aids, 
And Metius with the long fair curls, 

The love of Anxer's maids, 
And the white head of Vulso, 

The great Arician seer, 




BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 141 

And Nepos of Laurentum, 

The hunter of the deer ; 
And in the back false Sextus 

Felt the good Roman steel, 
And wriggling in the dust he died, 

Like a worm beneath the wheel : 
And fliers and pursuers 

Were mingled in a mass; 
And far away the battle 

Went roaring through the pass. 

XXXVII. 

Sempronius Atratinus 

Sate in the Eastern Gate, 
Beside him were three Fathers, 

Each in his chair of state ; 
Fabius, whose nine stout grandsons 

That day were in the field, 
And Manlius, eldest of the Twelve 

Who keep the Golden Shield ; 
And Sergius, the High Pontiff, 

For wisdom far renowed ; 



142 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

In all Etruria's colleges 

Was no such Pontiff found. 
And all around the portal, 

And high above the wall, 
Stood a great throng of people, 

But sad and silent all ; 
Young lads, and stooping elders 

That might not bear the mail, 
Matrons with lips that quivered, 

And maids with faces pale. 
Since the first gleam of daylight, 

Sempronius had not ceased 
To listen for the rushing 

Of horse-hoofs from the east. 
The mist of eve was rising, 

The sun was hastening down, 
When he was aware of a princely pair 

Fast pricking towards the town. 
So like they were, man never 

Saw twins so like before ; 
Red with gore their armour was, 

Their steeds were red with gore. 



BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 143 

XXXVIII. 

" Hail to the great Asylum ! 

Hail to the hill-tops seven ! 
Hail to the fire that burns for aye, 

And the shield that fell from heaven ! 
This day, by Lake Regillus, 

Under the Porcian height, 
All in the lands of Tusculum 

"Was fought a glorious fight. 
To-morrow your Dictator 

Shall bring in triumph home 
The spoils of thirty cities 

To deck the shrines of Rome !" 



XXXIX. 

Then burst from that great concourse 
A shout that shook the towers, 

And some ran north, and some ran south, 
Crying, " The day is ours !" 

But on rode these strange horsemen, 
With slow and lordly pace ; 



144 



LAYS OP ANCIENT HOME. 




And none who saw their bearing 

Durst, ask their name or race. 
On rode they to the Forum, 

While laurel-boughs and flowers, 
From house-tops and from windows, 

Fell on their crests in showers. 
When they drew nigh to Vesta, 

They vaulted down amain, 
And washed their horses in the well 

That springs by Vesta's fane. 
And straight again they mounted, 

And rode to Vesta's door; 



BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 145 

Then, like a blast, away they passed, 
And no man saw them more. 

XL. 

And all the people trembled, 

And pale grew every cheek ; 
And Sergius the High Pontiff 

Alone found voice to speak : 
" The Gods who live for ever 

Have fought for Rome to-day ! 
These be the Great Twin Brethren 

To whom the Dorians pray. 
Back comes the Chief in triumph, 

Who, in the hour of fight, 
Hath seen the Great Twin Brethren 

In harness on his right. 
Safe comes the ship to haven, 

Through billows and through gales 
If once the Great Twin Brethren 

Sit shining on the sails. 
Wherefore they washed their horses 

In Vesta's holy well, 
13 



146 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

Wherefore they rode to Vesta's door, 

I know, but may not tell. 
Here, hard by Vesta's temple, 

Build we a stately dome 
Unto the Great Twin Brethren 

Who fought so well for Rome. 
And when the months returning 

Bring back this day of fight, 
The proud Ides of Quintilis, 

Marked evermore with white, 
Unto the Great Twin Brethren 

Let all the people throng, 
With chaplets and with offerings^ 

With music and with song ; 
And let the doors and windows 

Be hung with garlands all, 
And let the Knights be summoned 

To Mars without the wall : 
Thence let them ride in purple 

With joyous trumpet-sound, 
Each mounted on his war-horse, 

And each with olive crowned ; 



BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 



147 



And pass in solemn order 

Before the sacred dome, 
Where dwell the Great Twin Brethren 

Who fought so well for Rome." 




VIRGINIA. 



VIRGINIA. 



A collection consisting exclusively of war-songs 
would give an imperfect, or rather an erroneous, 
notion of the spirit of the old Latin ballads. The 
Patricians, during more than a century after the 
expulsion of the Kings, held all the high military 
commands. A Plebeian, even though, like Lucius 
Siccius, he were distinguished by his valour and 
knowledge of war, could serve only in subordinate 
posts. A minstrel, therefore, who wished to celebrate 
the early triumphs of his country, could hardly take 
any but Patricians for his heroes. The warriors who 

(151) 



152 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

are mentioned in the two preceding lays, Horatius, 
Lartius, Herminius, Aulus Posthumius, iEbutiu? 
Elva, Sempronius Attratinus, Valerius Poplicola, 
were all members of the dominant order ; and a poet 
who was singing their praises, whatever his own poli- 
tical opinions might he, would naturally abstain from 
insulting the class to which they belonged, and from 
reflecting on the system which had placed such men 
at the head of the legions of the Commonwealth. 

But there was a class of compositions in which the 
great families were by no means so courteously 
treated. No parts of early Roman history are richer 
with poetical colouring than those which relate to 
the long contest between the privileged houses and 
the commonalty. The population of Rome was, 
from a very early period, divided into hereditary 
castes, which, indeed, readily united to repel foreign 
enemies, but which regarded each other, during 
many years, with bitter animosity. Between those 
castes there was a barrier hardly less strong than 
that which, at Venice, parted the members of the 
Great Council from their countrymen. In some 



VIRGINIA. 153 

respects, indeed, the line which separated an Icilius 
or a Duilius from a Posthumius or a Fabius, was 
even more deeply marked than that which separated 
the rower of a gondola from a Contarini or a 
Morosini. At Venice the distinction was merely 
civil. At Rome it was both civil and religious. 
Among the grievances under which the Plebeians 
suffered, three were felt as peculiarly severe. They 
were excluded from the highest magistracies ; they 
were excluded from all share in the public lands ; 
and they were ground clown to the dust by partial and 
barbarous legislation touching pecuniary contracts. 
The ruling class in Rome was a moneyed class ; and it 
made and administered the law with a view solely to 
its own interest. Thus the relation between lender 
and borrower was mixed up with the relation 
between sovereign and subject. The great men held 
a large portion of the community in dependence by 
means of advances at enormous usury. The law of 
debt, framed by creditors, and for the protection of 
creditors, was the most horrible that has ever been 
known among men. The liberty, and even the life, 



154 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

of the insolvent were at the mercy of the Patrician 
money-lenders. Children often became slaves in 
consequence of the misfortune of their parents. 
The debtor was imprisoned, not in a public gaol 
under the care of impartial public functionaries, but 
in a private workhouse belonging to the creditor. 
Frightful stories were told respecting these dungeons. 
It was said that torture and brutal violation were 
common ; that tight stocks, heavy chains, scanty 
measures of food, were used to punish wretches 
guilty of nothing but poverty ; and that brave 
soldiers, whose breasts were covered with honour- 
able scars, were often marked still more deeply on 
the back by the scourges of high-born usurers. 

The Plebeians were, however, not wholly without 
constitutional rights. From an early period they 
had been admitted to some share of political power. 
They were enrolled each in his century, and were 
allowed a share, considerable though not propor- 
tioned to their numerical strength, in the disposal 
of those high dignities from which they were them- 
selves excluded. Thus their position bore some 



VIRGINIA. 155 

resemblance to that of the Irish Catholics during the 
interval between the year 1792 and the year 1829. 
The Plebeians had also the privilege of annually 
appointing officers, named Tribunes, who had no 
active share in the government of the Common- 
wealth, but who, by degrees, acquired a power 
formidable even to the ablest and most resolute 
Consuls and Dictators. The person of the Tribune 
was inviolable ; and, though he could directly effect 
little, he could obstruct everything. 

During more than a century after the institution 
of the Tribuneship, the Commons struggled manfully 
for the removal of the grievances under which they 
laboured ; and, in spite of many checks and reverses, 
succeeding in wringing concession after concession 
from the stubborn aristocracy. At length, in the 
year of the city 378, both parties mustered their 
whole strength for their last and most desperate 
conflict. The popular and active Tribune, Caius 
Licinius, proposed the three memorable laws which 
are called by his name, and which were intended to 
redress the three great evils of which the Plebeians 



156 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

complained. He was supported, with eminent ability 
and firmness, by bis colleague, Lucius Sextius. Tbe 
struggle appears to have been the fiercest that ever 
in any community terminated without an appeal to 
arms. If such a contest had raged in. any Greek 
city, the streets would have run with blood. But, 
even in the paroxysms of faction, the Roman retained 
his gravity, his respect for law, and his tenderness 
for the lives of his fellow-citizens. Year after year, 
Licinius and Sextius were re-elected Tribunes. 
Year after year, if the narrative which has come 
down to us is to be trusted, they continued to exert, 
to the full extent, their power of stopping the whole 
machine of government. No curule magistrates 
could be chosen ; no military muster could be held. 
We know too little of the state of Rome in those days 
to be able to conjecture how, during that long 
anarchy, the peace was kept, and ordinary justice 
administered between man and man. The animosity 
of both parties rose to the greatest height. The 
excitement, we may well suppose, would have been 
peculiarly intense at the annual election of Tribunes. 



VIRGINIA. 157 

On such occasions there can be little doubt that the 
great families did all that could be done, by threats 
and caresses, to break the union of the Plebeians. 
That union, however, proved indissoluble. At length 
the good cause triumphed. The Licinian laws were 
carried. Lucius Sextius was the first Plebeian 
Consul, Caius Licinius the third. 

The results of this great change were singularly 
happy and glorious. Two centuries of prosperity, 
harmony, and victory followed the reconciliation of 
the orders. Men who remembered Pome engaged in 
waging petty wars almost within sight of the Capitol, 
lived to see her the mistress of Italy. While the 
disabilities of the Plebeians continued, she was 
scarcely able to maintain her ground against the 
Volscians and Hernicans. When those disabilities 
were removed, she rapidly became more than a 
match for Carthage and Macedon. 

During the great Licinian contest, the Plebeian 

poets were, doubtless, not silent. Even in modern 

times songs have been by no means without influence 

on public affairs ; and we may therefore infer that, 

14 



158 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

in a society where printing was unknown, and where 
books were rare, a pathetic or humorous party-ballad 
must have produced effects such as we can but 
faintly conceive. It is certain that satirical poems 
were common at Rome from a very early period. 
The rustics, who lived at a distance from the seat of 
government, and took little part in the strife of 
factions, gave vent to their petty local animosities in 
coarse Fescennine verse. The lampoons of the city 
were doubtless of a higher order ; and their sting 
was early felt by the nobility. For in the Twelve 
Tables, long before the time of the Licinian laws, a 
severe punishment was denounced against the citizen 
who should compose or recite verses reflecting on 
another.* Satire is, indeed, the only sort of com- 
position in which the Latin poets, whose works have 
come down to us, were not mere imitators of foreign 
models ; and it is therefore the only sort of composi- 
tion in which they have never been rivalled. It was 

* Cicero justly infers from this law that there had been early Latin 
poets whose works had been lost before his time. "Quamquam id 
qnidem etiam xii tabulse declarant, condi jam turn solitnm esse carmen, 
quod ne liceret fieri ad alterius injuriam lege sanxerunt." — Tusc. iv. 2. 



VIRGINIA. 159 

not, like their tragedy, their comedy, their epic and 
lyric poetry, a hothouse plant which, in return for 
assiduous and skilful culture, gave only scanty and 
sickly fruits. It was hardy and full of sap ; and in 
all the various juices which it yielded might be 
distinguished the flavour of the Ausonian soil. 
"Satire," said Quinctilian, with just pride, "is all 
our own." Satire sprang, in truth, naturally from 
the constitution of the Roman government and from 
the spirit of the Roman people ; and, though at 
length subjected to metrical rules derived from 
Greece, retained to the last an essentially Roman 
character. Lucilius was the earliest satirist whose 
works were held in esteem under the Caesars. But, 
many years before Lucilius was born, Nsevius had 
been flung into a dungeon, and guarded there with 
circumstances of unusual rigour, on account of the 
bitter lines in which he had attacked the great 
Csecilian family.* The genius and spirit of the 
Roman satirists survived the liberty of their country, 

* Plautus, Miles Gloriosus. Aulus Gellius, iii. 3. 



160 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

and were not extinguished by the cruel despotism of 
the Julian and Flavian Emperors. The great poet 
who told the story of Domitian's turbot was the 
legitimate successor of those forgotten minstrels 
whose songs animated the factions of the infant 
Republic. 

Those minstrels, as Niebuhr has remarked, appear 
to have generally taken the popular side. We can 
hardly be mistaken in supposing that, at the great 
crisis of the civil conflict they employed themselves 
in versifying all the most powerful and virulent 
speeches of the Tribunes, and in heaping abuse on 
the leaders of the aristocracy. Every personal 
defect, every domestic scandal, every tradition 
dishonourable to a noble house, would be sought out, 
brought into notice, and exaggerated. The illustrious 
head of the aristocratical party, Marcus Furius Camil- 
lus, might perhaps be, in some measure, protected by 
his venerable age and by the memory of his great 
services to the State. But Appius Claudius Crassus 
enj-oyed no such immunity. He was descended from 
a long line of ancestors distinguished by their 



VIRGINIA. 161 

haughty demeanour, and by the inflexibility with 
which they had withstood all the demands of the 
Plebeian order. While the political conduct and the 
deportment of the Claudian nobles drew upon them 
the fiercest public hatred, they were accused of 
wanting, if any credit is due to the early history of 
Rome, a class of qualities which, in a military 
Commonwealth, is sufficient to cover a multitude of 
offences. The chiefs of the family appear to have 
been eloquent, versed in civil business, and learned 
after the fashion of their age ; but in war they were 
not distinguished by skill or valour. Some of them, 
as if conscious where their weakness lay, had, when 
filling the highest magistracies, taken internal admin- 
istration as their department of public business, 
and left the military command to their colleagues.* 
One of them had been intrusted with an army, and 
had failed ignominiously.f None of them had been 
honoured with a triumph. None of them had 
achieved any martial exploit, such as those by 

* la the years of the city 260, 304, and 330. 
t la the year of the city 282. 

14* 



162 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

which Lucius Quinctius Cincinnatus, Titus Quinctius 
Capitolinus, Aulus Cornelius Cossus, and, above all, 
the great Camillus, had extorted the reluctant 
esteem of the multitude. During the Licinian 
conflict, Appius Claudius Crassus signalized himself 
by the ability and severity with which he harangued 
against the two great agitators. He would naturally, 
therefore, be the favourite mark of the Plebeian 
satirists ; nor would they have been at a loss to find 
a point on which he was open to attack. 

His grandfather, called, like himself, Appius 
Claudius, had left a name as much detested as that 
of Sextus Tarquinius. This elder Appius had been 
Consul more than seventy years before the introduc- 
tion of the Licinian laws. By availing himself of a 
singular crisis in public feeling, he had obtained the 
consent of the Commons to the abolition of the 
Tribuneship, and had been the chief of that Council 
of Ten to which the whole direction of the State had 
been committed. In a few months his administration 
had become universally odious. It had been swept 
away by an irresistible outbreak of popular fury ; 



VIRGINIA. 163 

and its memory was still held in abhorrence by the 
whole city. The immediate cause of the downfall of 
this execrable government was said to have been an 
attempt made by Appius Claudius upon the chastity 
of a beautiful young girl of humble birth. The 
story ran that the Decemvir, unable to succeed by 
bribes and solicitations, resorted to an outrageous 
act of tyranny. A vile dependant of the Claudian 
house laid claim to the damsel as his slave. The 
cause was brought before the tribunal of Appius. 
The wicked magistrate, in defiance of the clearest 
proofs, gave judgment for the claimant. But the 
girl's father, a brave soldier, saved her from servi- 
tude and dishonour by stabbing her to the heart 
in the sight of the whole Forurn. That blow was 
the signal for a general explosion. Camp and city 
rose at once ; the Ten were pulled down ; the 
Tribuneship was re-established ; and Appius escaped 
the hands of the executioner only by a voluntary 
death. 

It can hardly be doubted that a story so admirably 
adapted to the purposes both of the poet and of the 



164 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

demagogue would be eagerly seized upon by minstrels, 
burning with hatred against the Patrician order, 
against the Claudian house, and especially against 
the grandson and namesake of the infamous 
Decemvir. 

In order that the reader may judge fairly of these 
fragments of the lay of Virginia, he must imagine 
himself a Plebeian who has just voted for the re- 
election of Sextius and Licinius. All the power of 
the Patricians has been exerted to throw out the two 
great champions of the Commons. Every Posthu- 
mius, iEmilius, and Cornelius has used his influence 
to the utmost. Debtors have been let. out of the 
workhouses on condition of voting against the men 
of the people ; clients have been posted to hiss 
and interrupt the favourite candidates : Appius 
Claudius Crassus has spoken with more than his 
usual eloquence and asperity : all has been in vain ; 
Licinius and Sextius have a fifth time carried all the 
tribes : work is suspended : the booths are closed : 
the Plebeians bear on their shoulders the two 
champions of liberty through the Forum. Just at 



VIRGINIA. 165 

this moment it is announced that a popular poet, a 
zealous adherent of the Tribunes, has made a new 
song which will cut the Claudian nobles to the heart. 
The crowd gathers round him, and calls on him to 
recite it. He takes his stand on the spot where, 
according to tradition, Virginia, more than seventy- 
years ago, was seized by the pander of Appius, and 
he begins his story. 



VIKGINIA. 



FRAGMENTS OF A LAY SUNG IN THE FORUM ON THE 
DAY WHEREON LUCIUS SEXTIUS SEXTINUS LATER- 
ANUS AND CAIUS LICINIUS CALVUS STOLO WERE 
ELECTED TRIBUNES OF THE COMMONS THE FIFTH 
TIME, IN THE YEAR OF THE CITY CCCLXXXII. 



Ye good men of the Commons, 
With loving hearts and true, 

Who stand by the hold Tribunes 
That still have stood by you, 

Come, make a circle round me, 
And mark my tale with care, 

15 (169) 



170 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

A tale of what Rome once hath borne, 

Of what Rome yet may bear. 
This is no Grecian fable, 

Of fountains running wine, 
Of maids with snaky tresses, 

Or sailors turned to swine. 
Here, in this very Forum, 

Under the noonday sun, 
In sight of all the people, 

The bloody deed was done. 
Old men still creep among us 

Who saw that fearful day, 
Just seventy years and seven ago, 

When the wicked Ten bare sway. 



Of all the wicked Ten 

Still the names are held accursed, 
And of all the wicked Ten 

Appius Claudius was the worst. 
He stalked along the Forum 

Like King Tarquin in his pride : 



171 



Twelve axes waited on him, 

Six marching on a side ; 
The townsmen shrank to right and left, 

And eyed askance with fear 
His lowering brow, his curling mouth, 

Which alway seemed to sneer : 
That brow of hate, that mouth of scorn, 

Marks all the kindred still ; 
For never was there Claudius yet 

But wished the Commons ill : 
Nor lacks he fit attendance ; 

For close behind his heels, 
With outstretched chin and crouching pace, 

The client Marcus steals, 
His loins girt up to run with speed, 

Be the errand what it may, 
And the smile flickering on his cheek, 

For aught his lord may say- 
Such varlets pimp and jest for hire 

Among the lying Greeks : 
Such varlets still are paid to hoot 

When brave Licinius speaks. 



172 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

Where'er ye shed the honey, 

The buzzing flies will crowd ; 
Where'er ye fling the carrion, 

The raven's croak is loud ; 
Where'er down Tiber garbage floats, 

The greedy pike ye see ; 
And wheresoe'er such lord is found, 

Such client still will be. 

Just then, as through one cloudless chink 

In a black stormy sky 
Shines out the dewy morning-star, 

A fair young girl came by. 
With her small tablets in her hand, 

And her satchel on her arm, 
Home she went bounding from the school, 

Nor dreamed of shame or harm ; 
And past those dreaded axes 

She innocently ran, 
With bright, frank brow that had not learned 

To blush at gaze of man ; 



173 



And up the Sacred Street she turned, 

And, as she danced along, 
She warbled gaily to herself 

Lines of the good old song, 
How for a sport the princes 

Came spurring from the camp, 
And found Lucrece, combing the fleece, 

Under the midnight lamp. 
The maiden sang as sings the lark, 

When up he darts his flight, 
From his nest in the green April corn, 

To meet the morning light ; 
And Appius heard her sweet young voice, 

And saw her sweet young face, 
And loved her with the accursed love 

Of his accursed race, 
And all along the Forum, 

And up the Sacred Street, 
His vulture eye pursued the trip 

Of those small glancing feet. 

-s- $ * # * 

15* 



174 LAYS OP ANCIENT ROME. 

Over the Alban mountains 

The light of morning broke ; 
From all the roofs of the Seven Hills 

Curled the thin wreaths of smoke : 
The city gates were opened ; 

The Forum, all alive, 
With buyers and with sellers 

Was humming like a hive ; 
Blithely on brass and timber 

The craftsmen's stroke was ringing, 
And blithely o'er her panniers 

The market-girl was singing, 
And blithely young Virginia 

Came smiling from her home : 
Ah ! woe for young Virginia, 

The sweetest maid in Home ! 
With her small tablets in her hand, 

And her satchel on her arm, 
Forth she went bounding to the school, 

Nor dreamed of shame or harm. 
She crossed the Forum shining 

With stalls in alleys gay, 



175 



And just had reached the very spot 

Whereon I stand this day, 
When up the varlet Marcus came ; 

Not such as when erewhile 
He crouched behind his patron's heel 

With the true client smile : 
He came with lowering forehead, 

Swollen features, and clenched fist, 
And strode across Virginia's path, 

And caught her by the wrist. 
Hard strove the frighted maiden, 

And screamed with look aghast ; 
And at her scream from right and left 

The folk came running fast ; 
The money-changer Crispus, 

With his thin silver hairs, 
And Hanno from the stately booth 

Glittering with Punic wares, 
And the strong smith Mursena, 

Grasping a half-forged brand, 
And Volero the flesher, 

His cleaver in his hand. 



176 LAYS OF ANCIENT HOME. 

All came in wrath and wonder ; 

For all knew that fair child ; 
And, as she passed them twice a day, 

All kissed their hands and smiled ; 
And the strong smith Muraena 

Gave Marcus such a blow, 
The caitiff reeled three paces back, 

And let the maiden go. 
Yet glared he fiercely round him, 

And growled in harsh, fell tone, 
" She's mine, and I will have her : 

I seek but for mine own : 
She is my slave, born in my house, 

And stolen away and sold, 
The year of the sore sickness, 

Ere she was twelve years old. 
'Twas in the sad September, 

The month of wail and fright, 
Two augurs were borne forth that morn ; 

The Consul died ere night. 
I wait on Appius Claudius ; 

I waited on his sire : 



177 



Let him who works the client wrong 
Beware the patron's ire !" 

So spake the varlet Marcus ; 

And dread and silence came 
On all the people at the sound 

Of the great Claudian name. 
For then there was no Tribune 

To speak the word of might, 
Which makes the rich man tremble, 

And guards the poor man's right. 
There was no brave Licinius, 

No honest Sextius then ; 
But all the city, in great fear, 

Obeyed the wicked Ten. 
Yet ere the varlet Marcus 

Again might seize the maid, 
Who clung tight to Murasna's skirt, 

And sobbed, and shrieked for aid, 
Forth through the throng of gazers 

The young Icilius pressed, 



178 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

And stamped his foot, and rent his gown, 

And smote upon his breast, 
And sprang upon that column, 

By many a minstrel sung, 
Whereon three mouldering helmets, 

Three rusting swords are hung, 
And beckoned to the people, 

And in bold voice and clear 
Poured thick and fast the burning words 

Which tyrants quake to hear. 

" Now, by your children's cradles, 

Now, by your fathers' graves, 
Be men to-day, Quirites, 

Or be for ever slaves ! 
For this did Servius give us laws ? 

For this did Lucrece bleed ? 
For this was the great vengeance wrought 

On Tarquin's evil seed ? 
For this did those false sons make red 

The axes of their sire ? 



179 



For this did Scsevola's right hand 

Hiss in the Tuscan fire ? 
Shall the vile fox-earth awe the race 

That stormed the lion's den ? 
Shall we, who could not brook one lord, 

Crouch to the wicked Ten ? 
Oh for that ancient spirit 

Which curbed the Senate's will ! 
Oh for the tents which in old time 

Whitened the Sacred Hill ! 
In those brave days our fathers 

Stood firmly side by side ; 
They faced the Marcian fury ; 

They tamed the Fabian pride : 
They drove the fiercest Quinctius 

An outcast forth from Rome ; 
They sent the haughtiest Claudius 

With shivered fasces home. 
But what their care bequeathed us 

Our madness flung away : 
All the ripe fruit of threescore years 

Was blighted in a day. 



180 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

Exult, ye proud Patricians ! 

The hard-fought fight is o'er. 
We strove for honours — 'twas in vain : 

For freedom — 'tis no more. 
No crier to the polling 

Summons the eager throng ; 
No Tribune breathes the word of might 

That guards the weak from wrong. 
Our very hearts, that were so high, 

Sink down beneath your will. 
Riches, and lands, and power, and state- 

Ye have them : — keep them still. 
Still keep the holy fillets ; 

Still keep the purple gown, 
The axes, and the curule chair, 

The car, and laurel crown : 
Still press us for your cohorts, 

And, when the fight is done, 
Still fill your garners from the soil 

Which our good swords have won. 
Still, like a spreading ulcer. 

Which leech-craft may not cure, 



181 



Let your foul usance eat away 

The substance of the poor. 
Still let your haggard debtors 

Bear all their fathers bore ; 
Still let your dens of torment 

Be noisome as of yore ; 
No fire when Tiber freezes ; 

No air in dog-star heat ; 
And store of rods for free-born backs, 

And holes for free-born feet. 
Heap heavier still the fetters ; 

Bar closer still the grate ; 
Patient as sheep we yield us up 

Unto your cruel hate. 
But, by the Shades beneath us, 

And by the Gods above, 
Add not unto your cruel hate 

Your yet more cruel love ! 
Have ye not graceful ladies, 

Whose spotless lineage springs 
From Consuls, and High Pontiffs, 

And ancient Alban kings ? 
16 



182 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

Ladies, who deign not on our paths 

To set their tender feet, 
Who from their cars look down with scorn 

Upon the wondering street, 
Who in Corinthian mirrors 

Their own proud smiles behold, 
And breathe of Capuan odours, 

And shine with Spanish gold ? 
Then leave the poor Plebeian 

His single tie to life — 
The sweet, sweet love of daughter, 

Of sister, and of wife, 
The gentle speech, the balm for all 

That his vexed soul endures, 
The kiss, in which he half forgets 

Even such a yoke as yours. 
Still let the maiden's beauty 

Swell the father's breast with pride ; 
Still let the bridegroom's arms infold 

An unpolluted bride. 
Spare us the inexpiable wrong, 

The unutterable shame, 



VIRGINIA. 183 

That turns the coward's heart to steel, 

The sluggard's blood to flame, 
Lest, when our latest hope is fled, 

Ye taste of our despair, 
And learn by proof, in some wild hour, 

How much the wretched dare." 
& 3? -#- & -% 

Straightway Virginius led the maid 

A little space aside, 
To where the reeking shambles stood. 

Piled up with horn and hide, 
Close to yon low dark archway, 

Where, in a crimson flood, 
Leaps down to the great sewer 

The gurgling stream of blood. 
Hard by, a flesher on a block 

Had laid his whittle down : 
Virginius caught the whittle up, 

And hid it in his gown. 
And then his eyes grew very dim, 

And his throat began to swell, 



184 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

And in a ho-arse, changed voice he spake, 

"Farewell, sweet child! Farewell! 
Oh ! how I loved my darling ! 

Though stern I sometimes be, 
To thee, thou know'st, I was not so. 

Who could be so to thee ? 
And how my darling loved me ! 

How glad she was to hear 
My footstep on the threshold 

When I came back last year ! 
And how she danced with pleasure 

To see my civic crown, 
And took my sword, and hung it up, 

And brought me forth my gown ! 
Now, all those things are over — 

Yes, all thy pretty ways, 
Thy needlework, thy prattle, 

Thy snatches of old lays ; 
And none will grieve when I go forth, 

Or smile when I return, 
Or watch beside the old man's bed, 

Or weep upon his urn. 



185 



The house that was the happiest 

Within the Roman walls, 
The house that envied not the wealth 

Of Capua's marble halls, 
Now, for the brightness of thy smile, 

Must have eternal gloom, 
And for the music of thy voice, 

The silence of the tomb. 
The time is come. See how he points 

His eager hand this way ! 
See how his eyes gloat on thy grief, 
• Like a kite's upon the prey ! 
With all his wit, he little deems, 

That, spurned, betrayed, bereft, 
Thy father hath in his despair 

One fearful refuge left. 
He little deems that in this hand 

I clutch what still can save 
Thy gentle youth from taunts and blows, 

The portion of the slave ; 
Yea, and from nameless evil, 

That passeth taunt and blow — 
16* 



186 



LAYS OP ANCIENT HOME. 




Foul outrage which thou knowest not, 
Which thou shalt never know. 

Then clasp me round the neck once more, 
And give me one more kiss ; 

And now, mine own dear little girl, 
There is no way but this." 



187 



With that he lifted high the steel, 
And smote her in the side, 

And in her blood she sank to earth, 
And with one sob she died. 

Then, for a little moment, 

All people held their breath ; 
And through the crowded Forum 

Was stillness as of death ; 
And in another moment 

Brake forth from one and all 
A cry as if the Volscians 

Were coming o'er the wall. 
Some with averted faces 

Shrieking fled home amain ; 
Some ran to call a leech ; 

And some ran to lift the slain : 
Some felt her lips and little wrist, 

If life might there be found ; 
And some tore up their garments fast, 

And strove to staunch the wound. 



188 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

In vain they ran, and felt, and staunched ; 

For never truer blow 
That good right arm had dealt in fight 

Against a Volscian foe. 

When Appius Claudius saw that deed, 

He shuddered and sank down, 
And hid his face some little space 

With the corner of his gown, 
Till, with white lips and bloodshot eyes, 

Virginius tottered nigh, 
And stood before the judgment-seat, 

And held the knife on high. 
"Oh! dwellers in the nether gloom, 

Avengers of the slain, 
By this dear blood I cry to you, 

Do right between us twain ; 
And even as Appius Claudius 

Hath dealt by me and mine, 
Deal you with Appius Claudius 

And all the Claudian line !" 
So spake the slayer of his child, 



189 



And turned, and went his way ; 
But first he cast one haggard glance 

To where the body lay, 
And writhed, and groaned a fearful groan, 

And then, with steadfast feet, 
Strode right across the market-place 

Unto the Sacred Street. 

Then up sprang Appius Claudius : 

" Stop him ; alive or dead ! 
Ten thousand pounds of copper ' 

To the man who brings his head." 
He looked upon his clients ; 

But none would work his will. 
He looked upon his lictors ; 

But they trembled, and stood still. 
And, as Virginius through the press 

His way in silence cleft, 
Ever the mighty multitude 

Fell back to right and left. 
And he hath passed in safety 

Unto his woful home, 



190 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

And there ta'en horse to tell the camp 
What deeds are done in Rome. 

By this the flood of people 

Was swollen from every side, 
And streets and porches round were filled 

With that o'erflowing tide ; 
And close around the body 

Gathered a little train 
Of them that were the nearest 

And dearest to the slain. 
They brought a bier, and hung it 

With many a cypress crown, 
And gently they uplifted her, 

And gently laid her down. 
The face of Appius Claudius wore 

The Claudian scowl and sneer, 
And in the Claudian note he cried, 

" What doth this rabble here ? 
Have they no crafts to mind at home, 

That hitherward they stray ? 



191 



Ho ! lictors, clear the market-place, 

And fetch the corpse away !" 
The voice of grief and fury 

Till then had not been loud ; 
But a deep sullen murmur 

Wandered among the crowd, 
Like the moaning noise that goes before 

The whirlwind on the deep, 
Or the growl of a fierce watch-dog 

But half-aroused from sleep. 
But when the lictors at that word, 

Tall yeomen all and strong, 
Each with his axe and sheaf of twigs, 

Went down into the throng, 
Those old men say, who saw that day 

Of sorrow and of sin, 
That in the Koman Forum 

Was never such a din. 
The wailing, hooting, cursing, 

The howls of grief and hate, 
Were heard beyond the Pincian Hill, 

Beyond the Latin Gate. 



192 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

But close around the body, 

Where stood the little train 
Of them that were the nearest 

And dearest to the slain, 
No cries were there, but teeth set fast, 

Low whispers, and black frowns, 
And breaking up of benches, 

And girding up of gowns. 
'Twas well the lictors might not pierce 

To where the maiden lay, 
Else surely had they been all twelve 

Torn limb from limb that day. 
Right glad they were to struggle back, 

Blood streaming from their heads, 
With axes all in splinters, 

And raiment all in shreds. 
Then Appius Claudius gnawed his lip, 

And the blood left his cheek ; 
And thrice he beckoned with his hand, 

And thrice he strove to speak ; 
And thrice the tossing Forum 

Set up a frightful yell ; 



193 



" See, see, thou dog ! what thou hast clone ; 

And hide thy shame in hell ! 
Thou that wouldst make our maidens slaves 

Must first make slaves of men. 
Tribunes ! Hurrah for Tribunes ! 

Down with the wicked Ten !" 
And straightway, thick as hailstones, 

Came whizzing through the air 
Pebbles, and bricks, and potsherds, 

All round the curule chair : 
And upon Appius Claudius 

Great fear and trembling came ; 
For never was a Claudius yet 

Brave against aught but shame. 
Though the great houses love us not, 

We own, to do them right, 
That the great houses, all save one, 

Have borne them well in fight. 
Still Caius of Corioli, 

His triumphs, and his wrongs, 
His vengeance, and his mercy, 

Live in our camp-fire songs. 
17 



194 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

Beneath the yoke of Furius oft 

Have Gaul and Tuscan bowed ; 
And Rome may bear the pride of him 

Of whom herself is proud. 
But evermore a Claudius 

Shrinks from a stricken field, 
And changes colour like a maid 

At sight of sword and shield. 
The Claudian triumphs all were won 

Within the city-towers ; 
The Claudian yoke was never pressed 

On any necks but ours. 
A Cossus, like a wild-cat, 

Springs ever at the face ; 
A Fabius rushes like a boar 

Against the shouting chase ; 
But the vile Claudian litter, 

Raging with currish spite, 
Still yelps and snaps at those who run, 

Still runs from those who smite. 
So now 'twas seen of Appius. 

When stones began to fly, 



VIRGINIA. 195 

«He shook, and crouched, and wrung his hands, 

And smote upon his thigh. 
" Kind clients, honest lictors, 

Stand by me in this fray ! 
Must I be torn to pieces ? 

Home, home, the nearest way !" 
While yet he spake, and looked around 

With a bewildered stare, 
Four sturdy lictors put their necks 

Beneath the curule chair ; 
And fourscore clients on the left, 

And fourscore on the right, 
Arrayed themselves with swords and staves, 

And loins girt up for fight. 
But though without or staff or sword, 

So furious was the throng, 
That scarce the train with might and main 

Could bring their lord along. 
Twelve times the crowd made at him ; 

Five times they seized his gown ; 
Small chance was his to rise again, 

If once they got him down ; 



196 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

And sharper came the pelting ; 

And evermore the yell — 
" Tribunes ! we will have Tribunes !" — ■ 

Rose with a louder swell : 
And the chair tossed as tosses 

A bark with tattered sail 
When raves the Adriatic 

Beneath an eastern gale, 
When the Calabrian sea-marks 

Are lost in clouds of spume, 
And the great Thunder-Cape has donned 

His veil of inky gloom. 
One stone hit Appius in the mouth, 

And one beneath the ear ; 
And ere he reached Mount Palatine, 

He swooned with pain and fear. 
His cursed head, that he was wont 

To hold so high with pride, 
Now, like a drunken man's, hung down, 

And swayed from side to side ; 
And when his stout retainers 

Had brought him to his door, 



197 



His face and neck were all one cake 

Of filth and clotted gore. 
As Appius Claudius was that day, 

So may his grandson he ! 
God send Rome one such other sight, 

And send me there to see ! 



THE PROPHECY OE CAPYS. 



THE PROPHECY OF CAPYS. 



It can hardly be necessary to remind any reader 
that, according to the popular tradition, Romulus, 
after he had slain his grand-uncle Amulius, and 
restored his grandfather Numitor, determined to quit 
Alba, the hereditary domain of the Sylvian princes, 
and to found a new city. The Gods, it was added, < 
vouchsafed the clearest signs of the favour with 
which they regarded the enterprise, and of the high 
destinies reserved for the young colony. 

This event was likely to be a favourite theme of 
the old Latin minstrels. They would naturally 

(201) 



202 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

attribute the project of Romulus to some divine 
intimation of the power and prosperity which it was 
decreed that his city should attain. They would 
probably introduce seers foretelling the victories of 
unborn Consuls and Dictators, and the last great 
victory would generally occupy the most conspicuous 
place in the prediction. There is nothing strange in 
the supposition that the poet who was employed to 
celebrate the first great triumph of the Romans over 
the Greeks might throw his song of exultation into 
this form. 

The occasion was one likely to excite the strongest 
feelings of national pride. A great outrage had 
been followed by a great retribution. Seven years 
before this time, Lucius Posthumius Megellus, who 
sprang from one of the noblest houses of Rome, and 
■had been thrice Consul, was sent ambassador to 
Tarentum, with charge to demand reparation for 
grievous injuries. The Tarentines gave him audi- 
ence in their theatre, where he addressed them in 
such Greek as he could command, which, we may 
well believe, was not exactly such as Cineas would 



THE PROPHECY OF CAPTS. 203 

have spoken. An exquisite sense of the ridiculous 
belonged to the Greek character; and closely con- 
nected with this faculty was a strong propensity to 
flippancy and impertinence. When Posthumius 
placed an accent wrong, his hearers burst into a 
laugh. When he remonstrated, they hooted him, 
and called him barbarian ; and at length hissed him 
off the stage as if he had been a bad actor. As the 
grave Roman retired, a buffoon, who, from his 
constant drunkenness, was named the Pint-pot, came 
up with gestures of the grossest indecency, and 
bespattered the senatorial gown with filth. Posthu- 
mius turned round to the multitude, and held up the 
gown, as if appealing to the universal law of nations. 
The sight only increased the insolence of the Taren- 
tines. They clapped their hands, and set up a shout 
of laughter which shook the theatre. "Men of 
Tarentum," said Posthumius, "it will take not a 
little blood to wash this gown."* 

Rome, in consequence of this insult, declared war 

* Dion. Hal. de Legatiouibus. 



204 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

against the Tarentines. The Tarentines sought for 
allies beyond the Ionian Sea. Pyrrhus, king of 
Epirus, came to their help with a large army ; and, 
for the first time, the two great nations of antiquity 
were fairly matched against each other. 

The fame of Greece in arms, as well as in arts, 
was then at the height. Half a century earlier, the 
career of Alexander had excited the admiration and 
terror of all nations from the Ganges to the Pillars 
of Hercules. Royal houses, founded by Macedonian 
captains, still reigned at Antioch and Alexandria. 
That barbarian warriors, led by barbarian chiefs, 
should win a pitched battle against Greek valour 
guided by Greek science, seemed as incredible as it 
would now seem that the Burmese or the Siamese 
should, in the open plain, put to flight an equal 
number of the best English troops. The Tarentines 
were convinced that their countrymen were irresisti- 
ble in war; and this conviction had emboldened 
them to treat with the grossest indignity one whom 
they regarded as the representative of an inferior 



THE PROPHECY OF CAPYS. 



205 




race. Of the Greek generals then living Pyrrhus 
was indisputably the first. Among the troops who 
18 



206 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

were trained in the Greek discipline his Epirotes 
ranked high. His expedition to Italy was a turning- 
point in the history of the world. He found there a 
people who, far inferior to the Athenians and Corin- 
thians in the fine arts, in the speculative sciences, and 
in all the refinements of life, were the best soldiers 
on the face of the earth. Their arms, their grada- 
tions of rank, their order of battle, their method of 
intrenchment, were all of Latian origin, and had all 
been gradually brought near to perfection, not by 
the study of foreign models, but by the genius and 
experience of many generations of great native com- 
manders. The first words which broke from the 
king, when his practised eye had surveyed the 
Roman encampment, were full of meaning: — "These 
barbarians," he said, "have nothing barbarous in 
their military arrangements." He was at first 
victorious ; for his own talents were superior to those 
of the captains who were opposed to him ; and the 
Romans were not prepared for the onset of the 
elephants of the East, which were then for the first 



THE PROPHECY OP CAPYS. 207 

time seen in Italy — moving mountains, with long 
snakes for hands.* But the victories of the Epirotes 
were fiercely disputed, dearly purchased, and alto- 
gether unprofitable. At length, Manius Curius 
Dentatus, who had in his first Consulship won two 
triumphs, was again placed at the head of the 
Roman Commonwealth, and sent to encounter the 
invaders. A great battle was fought near Bene- 
ventum. Pyrrhus was completely defeated. He 
repassed the sea ; and the world learned with amaze- 
ment, that a people had been discovered, who, in 
fair fighting, were superior to the best troops that 
had been drilled on the system of Parmenio and 
Antigonus. 

The conquerors had a good right to exult in their 
success; for their glory was all their own. They 
had not learned from their enemy how to conquer 
him. It was with their own national arms, and in 
their own national battle-array, that they had over- 

* Anguimanus is the old Latin epithet for an elephant. Lucretius, 
ii. 533, v. 1302. 



208 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

come weapons and tactics long believed to be 
invincible. The pilum and the broadsword had 
vanquished the Macedonian spear. The legion had 
broken the Macedonian phalanx. Even the elephants, 
when the surprise produced by their first appearance 
was over, could cause no disorder in the steady yet 
flexible battalions of Rome. 

It is said by Florus, and may easily be believed, 
that the triumph far surpassed in magnificence any 
that Rome had previously seen. The only spoils 
which Papirius Cursor and Fabius Maximus could 
exhibit were flocks and herds, wagons of rude 
structure, and heaps of spears and helmets. But 
now, for the first time, the riches of Asia and the 
arts of Greece adorned a Roman pageant. Plate, 
fine stuffs, costly furniture, rare animals, exquisite 
paintings and sculptures, formed part of the proces- 
sion. At the banquet would be assembled a crowd 
of warriors and statesmen, among whom Manius 
Curius Dentatus would take the highest room. 
Caius Fabricius Luscinus, then, after two Consul- 



THE PROPHECY OP CAPYS. 209 

ships and two triumphs, Censor of the Commonwealth, 
would doubtless occupy a place of honour at the 
board. In situations less conspicuous probably lay 
some of those who were, a few years later, the terror 
of Carthage ; Caius Duilius, the founder of the 
maritime greatness of his country ; Marcus Atilius 
Regulus, who owed to defeat a renown far higher 
than that which he had derived from his victories ; 
and Caius Lutatius Catulus, who, while suffering 
from a grievous wound, fought the great battle of 
the iEgates, and brought the First Punic War to a 
triumphant close. It is impossible to recount the 
names of these eminent citizens, without reflecting 
that they were all, without exception, Plebeians, and 
would, but for the ever memorable struggle main-' 
tained by Caius Licinius and Lucius Sextius, have 
been doomed to hide in obscurity, or to waste in 
civil broils, the capacity and energy which prevailed 
against Pyrrhus and Hamilcar. 

On such a day we may suppose that the patriotic 
enthusiasm of a Latin poet would vent itself in 
18* 



210 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

reiterated shouts of Io triumphe, such as were uttered 
by Horace on a far less exciting occasion, and in 
boasts resembling those which Virgil put into the 
mouth of Anchises. The superiority of some foreign 
nations, and especially of the Greeks, in the lazy 
arts of peace, would be admitted with disdainful 
candour ; but pre-eminence in all the qualities which 
fit a people to subdue and govern mankind would be 
claimed for the Eomans. 

The following lay belongs to the latest age of 
Latin ballad-poetry. Nsevius and Livius Andronicus 
were probably among the children whose mothers 
held them up to see the chariot of Curius go by. 
The minstrel who sang on that day might possibly 
have lived to read the first hexameters of Ennius, 
and to see the first comedies of Plautus. His poem, 
as might be expected, shows a much wider acquaint- 
ance with the geography, manners, and productions 
of remote nations, than would have been found in 
compositions of the age of Camillus. But he troubles 
himself little about dates ; and having heard travel- 



THE PROPHECY OF CAPYS. 



211 



lers talk with admiration of the Colossus of Rhodes, 
and of the structures and gardens with which the 
Macedonian kings of Syria had embellished their 
residence on the banks of the Orontes, he has never 
thought of inquiring whether these things existed in 
the age of Romulus. 




THE PROPHECY OF CAPYS. 

A LAY SUNG AT THE BANQUET IN THE CAPITOL, ON 
THE DAY WHEREON MANITJS CUEJUS DENTATUS, A 
SECOND TIME CONSUL, TRIUMPHED OVER KING 
PYRRHUS AND THE TARENTINES, IN THE YEAR OF 
THE CITY CCCCLXXIX. 



I. 

Now slain is King Amulius, 
Of the great Sylvian line, 

Who reigned in Alba Longa, 
On the throne of Aventine. 

(218) 



214 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME 

Slain is the Pontiff Camers, 
Who spake the words of doom : 

" The children to the Tiber, 
The mother to the tomb." 

ii. 

In Alba's lake no fisher 

His net to-day is flinging: 
On the dark rind of Alba's oaks 

To-day no axe is ringing : 
The yoke hangs o'er the manger: 

The scythe lies in the hay : 
Through all the Alban villages 

No work is done to-day. 

in. 

And every Alban burgher 

Hath donned his whitest gown ; 

And every head in Alba 
Weareth a poplar crown ; 

And every Alban door-post 

With boughs and flowers is gay 



TIIE PROPHECY OF CAPYS. 215 




For to-day the dead are living 
The lost are found to-day. 



They were doomed by a bloody king : 

They were doomed by a lying priest : 
They were cast on the raging flood : 

They were tracked by the raging beast : 
Kaging beast and raging flood 

Alike have spared the prey ; 
And to-day the dead are living : 

The lost are found to-day. 



216 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 




V. 

The troubled river knew them, 

And smoothed his yellow foam, 
And gently rocked the cradle 

That bore the fate of Rome. 
The ravening she-wolf knew them, 

And licked them o'er and o'er, 
And gave them of her own fierce milk 

Rich with raw flesh and gore. 
Twenty winters, twenty springs, 

Since then have rolled away ; 



THE PROPHECY OF CAPYS. 217 

And to-day the dead are living : 
The lost are found to-day. 

VI. 

Blithe it was to see the twins, 

Right goodly youths and tall, 
Marching from Alba Longa 

To their old grandsire's hall. 
Along their path fresh garlands 

Are hung from tree to tree : 
Before them stride the pipers, 

Piping a note of glee. 

VII. 

On the right goes Romulus, 

With arms to the elbows red, 
And in his hand a broadsword, 

And on the blade a head — 
A head in an iron helmet, 

With horse-hair hanging down, 
A shaggy head, a swarthy head, 

Fixed in a ghastly frown — 
19 



218 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 

The head of King Amulius 
Of the great Sylvian line, 

Who reigned in Alba Longa, 
On the throne of Aventine. 

VIII. 

On the left side goes Remus, 

With wrists and fingers red, 
And in his hand a hoar-spear, 

And on the point a head — 
A wrinkled head and aged, 

With silver beard and hair, 
And holy fillets round it, 

Such as the Pontiffs wear — 
The head of ancient Gamers, 

Who spake the words of doom 
" The children to the Tiber ; 

The mother to the tomb." 

IX. 

Two and two behind the twins 
Their trusty comrades go, 



THE PROPHECY OF CAPYS. 219 

Four and forty valiant men, 

With club, and axe, and bow. 
On eacli side every hamlet 

Pours forth its joyous crowd, 
Shouting lads and baying dogs, 

And children laughing loud, 
And old men weeping fondly 

As Rhea's boys go by, 
And maids who shriek to see the heads, 

Yet, shrieking, press more nigh. 

x. 

So they marched along the lake ; 

They march by fold and stall, 
By corn-field and by vineyard 

Unto the old man's hall. 

XI. 

In the hall-gate sat Capys, 

Capys, the sightless seer ; 
From head to foot he trembled 

As Romulus drew near. 



220 



LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 



VATES 




And up stood stiff his thin white hair, 
And his blind eyes flashed fire : 

Hail! foster child of the wonderous nurse 
Hail ! son of the ponderous sire. 



THE PROPHECY OF CAPYS. 221 

XII. 

"But thou — what dost thou do here 

In the old man's peaceful hall? 
What doth the eagle in the coop, 

The bison in the stall ? 
Our corn fills many a garner ; 

Our vines clasp many a tree : 
Our flocks are white on many a hill ; 

But these are not for thee. 



"For thee no treasure ripens 

In the Tartessian mine : 
For thee no ship brings precious bales 

Across the Libyan brine : 
Thou shalt not drink from amber ; 

Thou shalt not rest on down ; 
Arabia shall not steep thy locks, 

Nor Sidon tinge thy gown. 
19* 



222 



LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 




" Leave gold and myrrh and jewels, 

Rich table and soft bed, 
To them who of man's seed are born, 

Whom woman's milk hath fed. 
Thou wast not made for lucre, 

For pleasure, nor for rest ; 
Thou, that art sprung from the War-god's loins, 

And hast tugged at the she-wolf's breast. 



xv. 
"From sunrise unto sunset 
All earth shall hear thy fame : 



THE PROPHECY OF CAPYS. 223 

A glorious city thou shalt build, 

And name it by thy name : 
And there, unquenched through ages, 

Like Vesta's sacred fire, 
Shall live the spirit of thy nurse, 

The spirit of thy sire. 

XVI. 

"The ox toils through the furrow, 

Obedient to the goad ; 
The patient ass up flinty paths, 

Plods with his weary load : 
With whine and bound the spaniel 

His master's whistle hears ; 
And the sheep yields her patiently 

To the loud-clashing shears. 

XVII. 

"But thy nurse will hear no master, 

Thy nurse will bear no load ; 
And woe to them that shear her, 

And woe to them that goad ! 



224 LAYS OP ANCIENT ROME. 

When all the pack, loud baying, 
Her bloody lair surrounds, 

She dies in silence, biting hard, 
Amidst the dying hounds. 

XVIII. 

"Pomona loves the orchard ; 

And Liber loves the vine ; 
And Pales loves the straw-built shed 

Warm with the breath of kine. 
And Venus loves the whispers 

Of plighted youth and maid, 
In April's ivory moonlight 

Beneath the chestnut shade. 

XIX. 

" But thy father loves the clashing 
Of broadsword and of shield : 

He loves to drink the steam that reeks 
From the fresh battle-field : 

He smiles a smile more dreadful 
Than his own dreadful frown, 



THE PROPHECY OF CAPYI 



225 




When he sees the thick black cloud of smoke 
Go up from the conquered town. 



"And such as is the War-god, 

The author of thy line, 
And such as she who suckled thee, 

Even such be thou and thine. 



226 



LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 




Leave to the soft Campanian 
His baths and his perfumes ; 



THE PROPHECY OF CAPYS. 227 

Leave to the sordid race of Tyre 

Their dyeing- vats and looms : 
Leave to the sons of Carthage 

The rudder and the oar : 
Leave to the Greek his marble Nymphs, 

And scrolls of wordy lore. 

XXI. 

"Thine, Roman, is the pilum: 

Roman, the sword is thine, 
The even trench, the bristling mound, 

The legion's ordered line ; 
And thine the wheels of triumph, 

Which with their laurelled train 
Move slowly up the shouting streets 

To Jove's eternal fane. 

XXII. 

"Beneath thy yoke the Volscian 

Shall vail his lofty brow : 
Soft Capua's curled revellers 

Before thy chairs shall bow : 



228 



LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 




The Lucumoes of Arnus 
Shall quake thy rods to see; 

And the proud Samnite's heart of steel 
Shall yield to only thee. 



'^The Gaul shall come against thee 
From the land of snow and night : 



THE PROPHECY OF CAPYS. 229 

Thou shalt give Ms fair-haired armies 
To the raven and the kite. 

XXIV. 

" The Greek shall come against thee, 

The conqueror of the East. 
Beside him stalks to battle 

The huge earth-shaking beast, 
The beast on whom the castle 

With all its guards doth stand, 
The beast who hath between his eyes 

The serpent for a hand. 
First march the bold Epirotes, 

Wedged close with shield and spear ; 
And the ranks of false Tarentum 

Are glittering in the rear. 

xxv. 

" The ranks of false Tarentum 

Like hunted sheep shall fly : 
In vain the bold Epirotes 

Shall round their standards die : 
20 



230 



LAYS OF ANCIENT HOME. 




And Apennine's gray vultures 

Shall have a noble feast 
On the fat and the eyes 

Of the huge earth-shaking beast. 



THE PROPHECY OF CAPTS. 231 

XXVI. 

" Hurrah ! for the good weapons 

That keep the War-god's land. 
Hurrah ! for Rome's stout pilum 

In a stout Roman hand. 
Hurrah ! for Rome's short broadsword, 

That through the thick array 
Of levelled spears and serried shields 

Hews deep its gory way. 



" Hurrah ! for the great triumph 

That stretches many a mile. 
Hurrah ! for the won captives 

That pass in endless file. 
Ho ! bold Epirotes, whither 

Hath the Red King ta'en flight ? 
Ho ! dogs of false Tarentum, 

Is not the gown washed white ? 



282 



LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 




XXVIII. 

" Hurrah ! for the great triumph 

That stretches many a mile. 
Hurrah ! for the rich dye of Tyre 

And the fine web of Nile, 
The helmets gay with plumage 

Torn from the pheasant's wings, 
The belts set thick with starry gems 

That shone on Indian kings, 
The urns of massy silver, 

The goblets rough with gold, 



THE PROPHECY OF CAPYS. 



233 




The many-colored tablets bright 
With loves and wars of old, 

The stone that breathes and struggles, 
The brass that seems to speak ; — 

Such cunning they who dwell on high 
Have given unto the Greek. 



XXIX. 

"Hurrah! for Manius Curius, 
The bravest son of Rome, 

Thrice in utmost need sent forth, 
Thrice drawn in triumph home. 

20* 



234 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 




Weave, weave, for Manius Cnrius 

The third embroidered gown : 
Make ready the third lofty car, 

And twine the third green crown, 
And yoke the steeds of Rosea 

With necks like a bended bow ; 
And deck the bull, Mevania's bull, 

The bull as white as snow. 



Blest and thrice blest the Roman 
Who sees Rome's brightest day, 



THE PROPHECY OF CAPYS. 235 




Who sees that long victorious pomp 
Wind down the Sacred AY ay, 

And through the bellowing Forum, 
And round the Suppliant's Grove, 

Up to the everlasting gates 
Of Capitolian Jove. 

XXXI. 

" Then where, o'er two bright havens, 
The towers of Corinth frown ; 

Where the gigantic King of Day 
On his own Rhodes looks down : 



236 



LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 




Where soft Orontes murmurs 

Beneath the laurel shades ; 
Where Nile reflects the endless length 

Of dark-red colonnades ; 
Where in the still deep water, 

Sheltered from waves and blasts, 
Bristles the dusky foresi 

Of Byrsa's thousand masts ; 



THE PROPHECY OF CAPYS. 237 

Where fur-clad hunters wander 

Amidst the northern ice ; 
"Where through the sand of morning-land 

The camel bears the spice ; 
Where Atlas flings his shadow 

Far o'er the western foam, 
Shall be great fear on all who hear 

The mighty name of Rome. 



IVEY: 



A SONG OF THE HUGUENOTS. 



IVRY. 



Now glory to the Lord of Hosts, 

From whom all glories are ! 
And glory to our Sovereign Liege, 

King Henry of Navarre ! 
Now let there be the merry sound 

Of music and of dance, 
Through thy corn-fields green, and sunny vines, 

Oh pleasant land of France ! 
And thou, Rochelle, our own Rochelle, 

Proud city of the waters, 

21 (241) 



242 



Again let rapture light the eyes 

Of all thy mourning daughters. 
As thou wert constant in our ills, 

Be joyous in our joy, 
For cold, and stiff, and still are they 

Who wrought thy walls annoy. 
Hurrah ! Hurrah ! a single field 

Hath turned the chance of war, 
Hurrah ! Hurrah ! for Tvry, 

And Henry of Navarre. 

Oh ! how our hearts were beating, 

When at the dawn of day, 
We saw the army of the League 

Drawn out in long array ; 
With all its priest-led citizens, 

And all its rebel peers, 
And Appenzel's stout infantry, 

And Egmont's Flemish spears. 
There rode the brood of false Lorraine, 

The curses of our land ; 



A SONG OF THE HUGUENOTS. 243 

And dark Mayenne was in the midst, 

A truncheon in his hand : 
And, as we looked on them, we thought 

Of Seine's empurpled flood, 
And good Coligni's hoary hair 

All dabbled with his blood ; 
And we cried unto the living God, 

Who rules the fate of war, 
To fight for his own holy name, 

And Henry of Navarre. 

The King is come to marshal us, 

In all his armour drest, 
And he has bound a snow-white plume 

Upon his gallant crest. 
He looked upon his people, 

And a tear was in his eye ; 
He looked upon the traitors, 

And his glance was stern and high. 
Right graciously he smiled on us, 

As rolled from wing to wing, 



244 



Down all our line, a deafening shout, 

" God save our Lord the King." 
" And if my standard-bearer fall, 

As fall full well he may, 
For never saw I promise yet 

Of such a bloody fray, 
Press where ye see my white plume shine, 

Amidst the ranks of war, 
And be your oriflamme to-day 

The helmet of Navarre." 



Hurrah ! the foes are moving. 

Hark to the mingled din, 
Of fife, and steed, and trump, and drum, 

And roaring culverin. 
The fiery Duke is pricking fast 

Across Saint Andre's plain, 
With all the hireling chivalry 

Of Guelders and Almayne. 
Now by the lips of those ye love, 

Fair gentlemen of France, 



A SONG OF THE HUGUENOTS. 245 

Charge for the golden lilies, — 

Upon them with the lance. 
A thousand spurs are striking deep, 

A thousand spears in rest, 
A thousand knights are pressing close 

Behind the snow-white crest ; 
And in they burst, and on they rushed, 

While, like a guiding star, 
Amidst the thickest carnage blazed 

The helmet of Navarre. 

Now, God be praised, the day is ours. 

Mayenne hath turned his rein. 
D'Aumale hath cried for quarter. 

The Flemish count is slain. 
Their ranks are breaking like thin clouds 

Before a Biscay gale ; 
The field is heaped with bleeding steeds, 

And flags, and cloven mail. 
And then we thought on vengeance, 

And, all along our van, 

21* 



216 



''Remember Saint Bartholomew," 

Was passed from man to man. 
But out spake gentle Henry, 

" No Frenchman is my foe : 
Down, down, with every foreigner, 

But let your brethren go." 
Oh ! was there ever such a knight, 

In friendship or in war, 
As our Sovereign Lord, King Henry, 

The soldier of Navarre ? 

Right well fought ail the Frenchmen 

Who fought for France to-day ; 
And many a lordly banner 

God gave them for a prey. 
But we of the religion 

Have borne us best in fight ; 
And the good Lord of Rosny 

Hath ta'en the cornet white. 
Our own true Maximilian 

The cornet white hath ta'en, 



A SONG OF THE HUGUENOTS. -17 

The cornet "white with crosses black, 

The flag of false Lorraine. 
Up with it high ; unfurl it wide ; 

That all the host may know 
How God hath humbled the proud house 

Which wrought his church such woe. 
Then on the ground, while trumpets sound 

Their loudest point of war, 
Fling the red shreds, a footcloth neat 

For Henry of Navarre. 

Ho ! maidens of Vienna ; 

Ho ! matrons of Lucerne ; 
Weep, weep, and rend your hair for those 

Who never shall return. 
Ho ! Philip, send, for charity, 

Thy Mexican pistoles, 
That Antwerp monks may sing a mass 

For thy poor spearmen's souls. 
Ho ! gallant nobles of the League, 

Look that your arms be bright ; 



218 



Ho ! burghers of Saint Genevieve, 

Keep watch and ward to-night. 
For our God hath crushed the tyrant, 

Our God hath raised the slave, 
And mocked the counsel of the wise, 

And the valour of the brave. 
Then glory to his holy name, 

From whom all glories are ; 
And glory to our Sovereign Lord, 

King Henry of Navarre. 



THE AMADA 



A FRAGMENT. 



THE ARMADA. 



Attend, all ye who list to hear 

Our noble England's praise ; 
I tell of the thrice famous deeds 

She wrought in ancient days, 
When that great fleet invincible 

Against her bore in vain 
The richest spoils of Mexico, 

The stoutest hearts of Spain. 

It was about the lovely close 
Of a warm summer day, 



(251) 



252 the armada: 

There came a gallant merchant-ship 

Full sail to Plymouth Bay ; 
Her crew hath seen Castile's black fleet, 

Beyond Aurigny's isle, 
At earliest twilight, on the waves 

Lie heaving many a mile. 
At sunrise she escaped their van, 

By God's especial grace ; 
And the tall Pinta, till the noon, 

Had held her close in chase. 
Forthwith a guard at every gun 

Was placed along the wall ; 
The beacon blazed upon the roof 

Of Edgecumbe's lofty hall ; 
Many a light fishing bark put out 

To pry along the coast, 
And with loose rein and bloody spur 

Rode inland many a post. 
With his white hair unbonneted, 

The stout old sheriff comes ; 
Behind him march the halberdiers ; 

Before him sound the drums : 



A FRAGMENT. 253 

His yeoman round the market cross 

Make clear an ample space ; 
For there behooves him to set up 

The standard of Her Grace. 
And haughtily the trumpets peal, 

And gaily dance the bells, 
As slow upon the labouring wind 

The royal blazon swells. 
Look how the Lion of the sea 

Lifts up his ancient crown, 
And underneath his deadly paw 

Treads the gay lilies down. 
So stalked he when he turned to flight, 

On that famed Picard field, 
Bohemia's plume, and Genoa's bow, 

And Caesar's eagle shield. 
So glared he when at Agincourt 

In wrath he turned to bay, 
And crushed and torn beneath his claws 

The princely hunters lay. 
Ho ! strike the flag-staff deep, Sir Knight : 

Ho ! scatter flowers, fair maids : 
22 



254 the armada: 

Ho ! gunners, fire a loud salute : 
Ho ! gallants, draw your blades : 

Thou sun, shine on her joyously ; 
Ye breezes, waft her wide ; 

Our glorious semper eadem, 
The banner of our pride. 

The freshening breeze of eve unfurled 

That banner's massy fold ; 
The parting gleam of sunshine kissed 

That haughty scroll of gold ; 
Night sank upon the dusky beach, 

And on the purple sea, 
Such night in England ne'er had been. 

Nor e'er again shall be. 
From Eddystone to Berwick bounds, 

From Lynn to Milford Bay, 
That time of slumber was as bright 

And busy as the day ; 
For swift to east and swift to west 

The ghastly war-flame spread, 



A FRAGMENT. 255 

High on St. Michael's Mount it shone : 

It shone on Beachy Head. 
Far on the deep the Spaniard saw, 

Along each southern shire, 
Cape beyond cape, in endless range, 

Those twinkling points of fire. 
The fisher left his skiff to rock 

On Tamar's glittering waves : 
The rugged miners poured to war 

From Mendip's sunless caves ; 
O'er Longleat's towers, o'er Cranbourne's oaks, 

The fiery herald flew : 
He roused the shepherds of Stonehenge, 

The rangers of Beaulieu. 
Right sharp and quick the bells all night 

Rang out from Bristol town, 
And ere the day three hundred horse 

Had met on Clifton down ; 
The sentinel on Whitehall gate 

Looked forth into the night, 
And saw o'erhanging Richmond Hill 

The streak of blood-red light. 



256 THE ARMADA : 

Then bugle's note and cannon's roar 

The death-like silence broke, 
And with one start, and with one cry, 

The royal city woke. 
At once on all her stately gates 

Arose the answering fires ; 
At once the wild alarum clashed 

From all her reeling spires ; 
From all the batteries of the Tower 

Pealed loud the voice of fear ; 
And all the thousand masts of Thames 

Sent back a louder cheer : 
And from the furthest wards was heard 

The rush of hurrying feet, 
And the broad streams of pikes and flags 

Rushed down each roaring street ; 
And broader still became the blaze, 

And louder still the din, 
As fast from every village round 

The horse came spurring in : 
And eastward straight from wild Blackheath 

The warlike errand went, 



A FRAGMENT. 257 

And roused in many an ancient hall 

The gallant squires- of Kent. 
Southward from Surrey's pleasant hills 

Flew those bright couriers forth ; 
High on bleak Hampstead's swarthy moor 

They started for the north ; 
And on, and on, without a pause, 

Untired they bounded still : 
All night from tower to tower they sprang ; 

They sprang from hill to hill : 
Till the proud peak unfurled the flag 

O'er Darwin's rocky dales, 
Till like volcanoes flared to heaven 

The stormy hills of Wales, 
Till twelve fair counties saw the blaze 

On Malvern's lonely height, 
Till streamed in crimson on the wind 

The Wrekin's crest of light, 
Till broad and fierce the star came forth 

On Ely's stately fane, 
And tower and hamlet rose in arms 

O'er all the boundless plain ; 



258 THE ARMADA. 

Till Belvoir's lordly terraces 

The sign to Lincoln sent, 
And Lincoln sped the message on 

O'er the wide vale of Trent; 
Till Skiddaw saw the fire that burned 

On Gaunt's embattled pile, 
And the red glare on Skiddaw roused 

The burghers of Carlisle. 
* * $ * * 



THE 



CAVALIER'S MARCH TO LONDON. 



TIIE 



CAVALIER'S MARCH TO LONDON. 



To horse ! to horse ! brave cavaliers ! 

To horse for church and crown ! 
Strike, strike your tents ! snatch up your spear: 

And ho for London town ! 
The imperial harlot, doomed a prey 

To our avenging fires, 
Sends up the voice of her dismay 

From all her hundred spires. 

(261) 



262 THE CAVALIER'S MARCH TO LONDON. 

The Strand resounds with maidens' shrieks, 

The 'Change with merchants' sighs, 
And blushes stand on brazen cheeks, 

And tears in iron eyes ; 
And, pale with fasting and with fright, 

Each Puritan committee 
Hath summoned forth to prayer and fight 

The Roundheads of the city. 

And soon shall London's sentries hear 

The thunder of our drum, 
And London's dames, in wilder fear, 

Shall cry, Alack ! They come ! 
Fling the fascines ; — tear up the spikes ; 

And forward, one and all. 
Down, down with all their train-band pikes, 

Down with their mud-built wall. 

Quarter ? — Foul fall your whining noise, 

Ye recreant spawn of fraud ! 
No quarter ! Think on Strafford, boys. 

No quarter ! Think on Laud. 



THE CAVALIER'S MARCH TO LONDON. 268 

What ho ! The craven slaves retire. 

On ! Trample them to mud, 
No quarter! Charge. — No quarter! 

No quarter ! Blood ! blood ! blood !— 

Where next ? In sooth, there lacks no witch, 

Brave lads, to tell us where, 
Sure London's sons be passing rich, 

Her daughters wondrous fair : 
And let that dastard be the theme 

Of many a board's derision, 
Who quails for sermon, cuff, or scream 

Of any sweet precisian. 

Their lean divines, of solemn brow, 

Sworn foes to throne and steeple, 
From an unwonted pulpit now 

Shall edify the people : 
Till the tired hangman, in despair, 

Shall curse his blunted shears, 
And vainly pinch, and scrape, and tear, 

Around their leathern ears. 



264. THE CAVALIER'S MARCH TO LONDON. 

,We'll hang, above his own Guildhall, 

The city's grave Recorder, 
And on the den of thieves we'll fall, 

Though Pym should speak to order. 
In vain the lank-haired gang shall try 

To cheat our martial law ; 
In vain shall Lenthall trembling cry 

That strangers must withdraw. 

Of bench and woolsack, tub and chair, 

We'll build a glorious pyre, 
And tons of rebel parchment there 

Shall crackle in the fire. 
With them shall perish, cheek by jowl, 

Petition, psalm, and libel, 
The colonel's canting muster-roll, 

The chaplain's dog-eared Bible. 

We'll tread a measure round the blaze 
Where England's pest expires, 

And lead along the dance's maze 
The beauties of the friars : 



THE CAVALIER'S MARCH TO LONDON. 265 

Then smiles in every face shall shine, 

And joy in every soul. 
Bring forth, bring forth the oldest wine, 

And crown the largest bowl. 

And as with nod and laugh ye sip 

The goblet's rich carnation, 
Whose bursting bubbles seem to tip 

The wink of invitation ; 
Drink to those names, — those glorious names, — 

Those names no time shall sever, — 
Drink, in a draught as deep as Thames, 

Our church and king for ever ! 



23 



A. SONG OF THE HUGUENOTS. 



A SONG OF THE HUGUENOTS. 



Oh ! weep for Moncontour. 

Oh ! weep for the hour 
When the children of darkness 

And evil had power ; 
When the horsemen of Valois 

Triumphantly trod 
On the bosoms that bled 

For their rights and their God. 

Oh ! weep for Moncontour. 
Oh weep for the slain 

(2G9) 



270 A SONG OF THE HUGUENOTS. 

Who for faith and for freedom 
Lay slaughtered in vain. 

Oh ! weep for the living, 
Who linger to bear 

The renegade's shame. 
Or the exile's despair. 

One look, one last look, 

To the cots and the towers, 
To the rows of our vines, 

And the beds of our flowers, 
To the church where the bones 

Of our fathers decayed, 
Where we fondly had deemed 

That our own should be laid. 

Alas ! we must leave thee, 
Dear desolate home, 

To the spearmen of Uri, 
The shavelings of Rome, 

To the serpent of Florence, 
The vulture of Spain, 



A SONG OF THE HUGUENOTS. 271 

To the pride of Anjou, 
And the guile of Lorraine. 

Farewell to thy fountain, 

Farewell to thy shades, 
To the song of thy youths, 

And the dance of thy maids. 
To the breath of thy garden, 

The hum of thy bees, 
And the long waving line 

Of the blue Pyrenees. 

Farewell, and for ever. 

The priest and the slave 
May rule in the halls 

Of the free and the brave ;— 
Our hearths we abandon ; — 

Our lands we resign ; 
But, Father, we kneel 

To no altar but thine. 



LIBRARY 




